By Any Other Name
by BurladoresyLadrones
Summary: It’s senior year of high school, and Lily and Oliver are still “just friends”, but Oliver knows what he wants. What will it take to get this relationship into second gear? Loliver. Rated T.
1. Side by Side

**A/N: Hello again my readers! It feels so great to be back and writing. Isn't winter break great? Hahaha. I feel very inspired, and hope that this story is going to be quite fun to write. Back to Lily and Oliver, at the moment. This is very much AU, as there is no Miley, and, though I haven't decided quite where yet, the group certainly does not live in Malibu. I expect this to be of similar length to "Tell Me", but it is completely separate. Enjoy! **

**Chapter 1: Side-by-Side**

Lillian Rose Truscott was stretched achingly over her work, marking and gluing with a precise passion. Her left hand scrawled impossibly faint pencil words in distant corners of large white pages while her right hand sorted a plethora of black and white photo prints. Her friends told her regularly that she was a fantastic multitasker, but she didn't see it. At the moment, Lillian Rose Truscott was overwhelmingly busy.

"Lily!" Maya's unmistakable voice carried impatiently through the upstairs hallway. "Lily," she watched as Maya's little heart-shaped tanned face peeked around the corner of the photography room's door. She looked exhausted. "I've been looking all over for you. Figures you'd be up here, on the third floor, in the farthest corner."

"Sorry Maya," she looked up to see a cheerful friend, "I've got to finish this portfolio by the weekend."

"I never thought I'd say this one, but then thank God it's Monday. Come on. Lunch is starting, and I here they're having the good chicken today."

"Ugh," Lily pulled her things into a messy arrangement on her worktable and reluctantly threw her old blue messenger bag over her shoulder. "I'm coming," she sighed submissively and shuffled after her best friend, out of the corner, down the stairs, and into the dining room.

Xxx...xxX

Oliver Oken slid the last of his AP Bio books into his locker and slammed the door shut. This, to his surprise, left him face-to-face with a blonde male best friend of his who leaned casually up against the green painted metal beside him.

"Oken! Where've you been?" the boy cracked a toothy grin. _'God, his self esteem is through the roof,'_ Oliver thought to himself.

"Actually, I had class fifth period."

"Aw that's right," Mike laughed. "I forgot you smart kids actually take enough classes to fill up a schedule. Most of us spent this period free."

Beginning to walk down the hall with Mike trailing excitedly behind him, Oliver replied, "Hm…Well aren't you lucky? What's got you so hyped up? Miss Casparillo forget to wear a bra again today?"

Mike went white, stopping in his tracks. "Don't talk about her like that."

"Sorry. I'll try not to get you all excited during the school day."

"I'd appreciate that, thanks." Mike continued to follow Oliver in a jumpy uncontainable lope.

"God, Mike, what?" Oliver turned on one foot in an instant to face him.

An all-knowing smile slid sneakily along his face. "Guess who the soccer team is playing this Saturday."

Oliver sighed. "Really, Mike? I don't know. Who are we playing this Saturday?"

Mike was nearly clapping with the wild movements he made, "The Wasps."

Oliver distinctly felt his jaw drop quite literally to the ground. It just unhooked itself and bam, there it lay. "But they're from out of state! And they're supposed to be the best team in the Midwest!"

"I know, right? I'm floored."

"There's an understatement. Damn, Michael! What if we win?" Oliver laughed hopefully as he led Mike into the lunch line. _'Hm. The good chicken,'_ he thought, inhaling.

"I know! I freaking can't wait for Saturday!"

Xxx...xxX

"Harvey!" Lily laughed, reaching across the long blue lunch table to slap the sandwich from her misbehaving friend. The rest of the group was in a fit of giggles.

"So Lily," Oliver asked between bites of his chicken, "How's the portfolio coming?"

"Ugh, guys, I don't know if I'm ever going to finish."

"Don't say that!" Maya jumped in supportingly.

"Yeah," Mike said slyly, "I think you know a few ways of getting some help."

"Ew! Mike! Not while I'm eating!" Lily threw her head back in laughter and raised it again to an intense grin-and-stare from Oliver. She turned her attention quickly to her green beans.

"So guess what ladies," Mike purred in joking seduction at Maya and Lily, "Us Blazers are gunna be playing the Wasps this Saturday, and Oliver and I are personally inviting you to watch us get all worked up and sweaty."

Oliver blushed furiously.

"Can't wait," Maya replied sarcastically.

"Who're the Wasps?" Lily asked.

"What!" Mike threw his head to the table, pulling up slightly to glare at Oliver, "I told you they wouldn't get it."

"Whatever, Mike," Lily laughed. "We'll come and watch your big-headed jock head play offensive soccer if it helps boost your ego."

"No!" Harvey looked suddenly desperate. "I wanted to go see a movie on Sunday!"

"What the hell?" Maya glared at him. "What does that matter?"

"Well now his ego's not gunna fit in the freaking theater!" He kept a straight and terrified face, sending the girls into giggles.

Mike looked annoyed.

Xxx...xxX

Lily and Oliver were lying side-by-side, stretched across her bed. Her parents, though they trusted her, would definitely not approve. Lily gave an upward thank you that they worked late on Fridays.

Silence.

And suddenly not. "NO MORE RICE KRISPIES! WE'VE RUN OUT OF RICE KRISPIES!" Oliver rolled off the bed, onto the floor, and onto one knee in a mournful serenade.

"Oliver!" Lily sat up in surprise, giggling at his use of old commercial jingle.

"MY TEARS WILL NOT STOP UNTIL I HEAR THAT SNAP, CRACKLE POP!" He finished, beaming.

"I can't believe you!" Oliver rolled back onto the bed beside her.

"What? It's a good song," he played innocent.

"I don't think you were even alive when that commercial came out."

"Are you saying I shouldn't appreciate the classics? This is the song of my ancestors." Lily was now leaned against one of her pillows, and Oliver was leaning closer, turned as if to hover over her.

"Hardly."

Oliver looked her straight in the eyes, with more seriousness than she thought he could muster, "I _love_ my Rice Krispies."

Lily closed her eyes and smiled, sighing, "Clearly."

The silence came again. Not silence really, soft breaths from Lily were easily heard. Oliver rolled back over to lie beside her again, not so secretly glad that for the past fifteen years they'd been the closest of friends. It was cliché to say, but he could tell her anything, and he loved that almost as much as he loved—

_**BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ**_

"God, Lily!" Oliver jumped from the bed as her phone began to ring. He swore Lily had the most inconveniently timed phone calls of anyone he knew. This was just like that one time last year when he'd been on the soccer field and she was in the grass on the sideline, cheering him along. He, _of course_, was about to make the winning shot, and she, _of course_, just happened to have her cell phone on full volume when the call came in. Needless to say, his team was not too pleased with her, or him for that matter, after that one.

"Sorry!" she called, already half out of the room with her cell phone in hand. She glanced routinely at the caller ID, _'Maya'_.

"Hello?" She picked up once she'd reached the hallway.

"Hey, Lily?"

"What's up?" she began walking comfortably up and down her upstairs hallway out of habit.

"So I was talking to Jess," she began and Lily sighed.

"Jess Stevenson or Jess Allivioli?" she asked quickly.

"Stevenson. Ew. I haven't talked to Jess Allivioli in like, three weeks," her cell phone answered her in a hollow sent-through-satellite voice.

"Oh, it only takes three weeks now?" Lily chided.

"Shove it, Lils."

"Sorry, you go through guys so fast these days, I just can't keep up."

"Do you want me to get to the point or not?" Maya sounded sarcastically irritated.

"I don't know. Teasing you seems pretty appealing."

"ANYWAY," Maya cut in before Lily had a chance to get anything else out, "I was talking to Jess, and he told me that Will—"

"Will Giordano!?" Lily's face went red. She felt her palms go sweaty and nearly dropped her phone. Oh yes, she was hopeless. Seventeen-and-a-half years old and she couldn't handle herself.

"Yes, Lily, we do all know that you've been crushing madly on Will since sophomore year. Would I really get you that excited to talk about another guy?"

"Probably," Lily said, but cut herself off anxiously, "Anyway…get to it."

"He and Angela broke up today."

"Eeee!" Lily squealed. "Why? Was it for another girl?"

"Nope. He's _single_ now, Lils," Maya laughed.

"Ohmagod. You just made my day about ten thousand times better."

"Glad to. You'll have to go after that sexy Debate boy first thing on Monday."

"Will do, but I gotta go now, Maya," Lily walked back towards her bedroom door, "Oliver's waiting for me in my room."

"Ooh!" Maya called suggestively.

"Oh stop you freak. You know what I mean. See you tomorrow." Lily pulled the phone from her ear.

"Wait, Lily! Abstinence is key! Use protection! Stay in school!" The voice grew quiet as Lily pushed the little red "END" button on her phone. She slid it back into her front jeans pocket and opened her door to see Oliver rolled over, hugging one of her pillows, breathing deeply as if asleep.

"Oliver, ya jerk, get up," Lily called and threw herself next to him, making the bed bounce.

"Sorry," he yawned mock-sleepily, opening his eyes lazily one at a time, "Eaves-dropping on girl talk gets dull."

Lily raised one eyebrow at him in a death glare.

"Just kidding," he laughed unconvincingly, "What do you guys talk about anyway?"

Lily looked at him very seriously, "Girl stuff, Oliver."

Oliver mumbled something that sounded like an "Oh" and a subtle "Never mind" combined into one as he turned around and hopped cautiously off Lily's bed. "Well I've gotta go study for my BC Calc test on Monday. First test of the year. Can you believe it?"

"Always the brainiac, Oliver. It's not like you don't have a guaranteed A+ in that class already," she said trailing behind him out her door and down the stairs to the living room.

"Why're you following?" Oliver turned to ask her as he walked past the red patterned sofa.

"My mom just pulled in," she explained, grabbing his coat from the chair where he'd tossed it casually earlier. "We have to put on an act. Try to look convincing, like you weren't just lying on my bed with no supervision."

Oliver laughed, slipping on his tennis shoes, and opening the door to walk out just as Lily's mother reached it to walk in.

"Nice to see you, Mrs. Truscott," Oliver waved good-naturedly as he pulled his coat sleeves up his arms and headed down the street.

**A/N: One chapter down. I know, filler and background and crap, but it's going to get quite a bit more interesting come chapter two. Soccer games can be quite a bit of fun when played just right. Hehehe. I hope to have Chapter Two up later today. Man, have I mentioned how much I love winter break? Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	2. No Sweepstakes

**A/N: Chapter Two is up. Here's a little plot twist and a good deal of Lily getting a little wild when Oliver isn't around to keep her in check. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Can you believe I forgot to put a disclaimer on Chapter 1? I'm probably going to get sued considering how often I've had close encounters with the law regarding my legal ownership of published works. Again, Hemmingway, my apologies.**

**Chapter 2: No Sweepstakes**

It was an incredibly cold day for September. On the morning news Lily'd overheard her dad watching during breakfast, the weatherman said it'd drop as low as 50 that afternoon. _'Yeah, well, he didn't realize that it gets pretty damn windy in these bleachers,' _Lily thought to herself as she shivered.

"Cold?" Harvey, standing on her right side, asked her as she jumped a bit on the metal stands.

"Clearly," Maya leaned over from her left to inform him.

"You guys should wear more clothes," Harvey advised them, having no qualms about the unnecessarily large unsightly bright orange down coat that he was wearing.

"Sorry, I have an image to keep up," Maya laughed, "Traffic cone does not fit the description."

"But blue-lipped and shivering does?" He teased.

"Shhh!" Lily called suddenly, "The second half is about to start."

The group quieted down as the Blazer team, well-dressed in maroon and white took the field, followed quickly by the yellow and black Wasps, who Lily had to admit, looked pretty intense. They played that way, too. The score was 4-3, them. Lily wasn't sure when someone had scored that fourth goal, but she leant that to the fact that she couldn't see particularly well from row MM of the stands. But it was worth being late if it meant her hair was done just a little more neatly and her clothes matched just a bit better.

Unfortunately, this meant that she was also having a little bit of a problem keeping up with the action. She couldn't tell who was who from way up there, and was straining to find the painted "24" on the back of a jersey that would indicate Oliver. Or the "3" that would tell her "worked up sweaty" Mike was down on the field, too.

Lily reached inside her maroon sweatshirt's pocket to find an empty bag of Skittles. Man, she'd eaten those fast. And having had only those since breakfast, she was feeling a headache coming on. _'I'll go get some pizza and water after the third quarter.' _At least that would almost be food. It could help, she hoped.

"Can you tell who's who?" Harvey leaned to her to ask.

"Absolutely not."

"Good. I though it was just me. And they're making us do those eye tests in the nurse's office on Monday. I'm not getting glasses _now_."

"And you think I spend too much time on my _hair_? Who's the vain one now?" Lily laughed and moved her elbow to nudge Maya, hoping for someone to laugh with her, but Lily was surprised to find Maya quite occupied with Jess, who was now standing on the far side of her, near the aisle.

Lily leaned back to Harvey, "When'd he get here?"

"Dunno." He was already distracted with the game.

_'Great,'_ Lily thought, _'I can't see what's happening, Harvey won't talk to me, Maya's occupied, I'm freezing, and I have no Skittles left.'_

"Score!" called an announcer from the glass box at the top of the stands.

_'I bet it's warm up there,' _Lily noted duly.

"The Blazer's tie the score at 4-4 with Greg Allen, number 43, assisting Mike Bagley, number 3, with a goal." The voice boomed loudly across the field as her side of the crowd got pulled up into a wave and enthusiastic cheering.

A loud buzzer sounded to indicate the end of the quarter.

"I'm gunna get some pizza," Lily turned to Harvey and stated, "Wanna come with?"

"Too far," Harvey grumbled, pulling at the sides of his coat, perhaps because he was a bit warm.

"Suit yourself," she shrugged, racing down the metal stairs so she wouldn't miss a minute of the action she couldn't see.

At the bottom it was a few corners to turn followed by a long stretch of grey cracked pavement to cross before she reached the snack bar, so she decided to play a little game with herself. She found a crack nearest her and began to follow it, hoping that by some lucky turn of events, the path she chose would bring her right to her pizza.

She watched her feet carefully, knowing she always had to take the thickest crack so she couldn't cheat and get there too easily. She looked up to see how far she'd made it just in time to find herself face-to-face (Well, more face to chin. He was a good six inches taller than her) with a certain sexy blond-haired debate boy. Lily reminded herself not to faint, and decided instead on turning an unnatural shade of pink.

"Hey Lily," he laughed good-naturedly, looking down at her with green eyes that pierced her heart. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Besides, he beat her to it. "Having fun?" He raised one eyebrow in a teasing question.

"Oh, yeah," she laughed, "Just getting some pizza. I can't see from up in my seat, so I'm keeping myself occupied down here with my own games," she joked not-so-jokingly.

"Got it. Well, you know, if you want to you could come sit down with us. We're in row R. That's probably a lot closer than wherever you're sitting" He gave her a grin that made her insides turn to gravy. _'Hold yourself together, girl,'_ she scolded herself.

"I might take you up on that. Who's 'us'?" She replied smoothly. _'I've got this.'_ She mentally patted herself on the back for her easy reply. But thoughts didn't stop there. _'Oh shit. What if it's Angela?'_

"Just me and some of the debate guys. We all came from a tournament earlier today, so it was just convenient to sit together."

"Tournament, eh? How'd you guys do?" _'Damn I'm good at small talk.'_

"Pretty well, I think," he stepped a little closer to avoid a group of running middle-schoolers. Lily found herself not minding, cleverly noting that he was not talking from his well-toned chest, so she should stop ogling it now that he was looking at her again. "No sweepstakes, but individually we won a few things. David took third in OI, I was fourth for LD."

'_Who's David?'_ Lily found herself wondering, making a mental note to look up the specifics of speech and debate when she got home. She had no idea what he'd just said. "Congratulations," she smiled, shivering involuntarily.

"Thanks," he eyed her carefully, "You cold?"

"Uh," she started, blushing, "Just a bit."

He laughed. It was a beautiful laugh. Lily wondered for a moment if she'd ever heard anything better sounding. All twinkling and low and lovely. "I'll never understand why girls come out to things like this without anything warm. You know you're not proving anything by being immune to the weather," he chided, and she laughed in return. "My little sister is a competitive ice-skater, and at competitions all those girl fans are walking around the stands in t-shirts. Always gives me a good laugh."

"You're little sister figure skates? That's so sweet! I wish I had younger siblings," Lily cooed enthusiastically.

"You say that now…" he groaned, but laughed, "Naw, I'm kidding. She's a really good kid. You don't have any brothers or sisters?"

"One older brother. He's in college now, though. Studying to be an engineer," Lily found herself leaning against the brick wall of the bathroom building. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten herself all the way over there, but somehow she didn't much care.

"That's cool. Well, listen, I'll let you get back to your pizza, but if you want to, we can make some room up in the stands. Row R." He smiled.

"I just may see you up there, thanks," Lily reminded herself to add an extra scoop to that bowl of ice cream when she got home because of how well she'd done talking to a boy. Speaking of ice cream, God, was it cold. She shivered violently.

"We might even have an extra Debate jacket up there if you do." He walked away, a low chuckle rumbling under his breath.

Lily felt her knees go slack and had to catch herself before she really made a fool of herself. She'd just been invited to hang out with Will Giordano. Granted, she couldn't. It would ruin the whole appeal to take it more than just a tiny bit at a time. It would be WAY too awkward to have to go talk to him now.

She could just see it, she'd walk up and smile nervously at all the Speechies and Debaters, holding her pizza out so everyone knew she was hungry, then she'd get weird looks from every one of them until Will, who'd be conveniently the farthest from her, realized she was standing there and invited her over. Then they'd have ten minutes of game to discuss between her bites, but really, it just wasn't going to cut it. She'd see him Monday.

All this thinking got her to the front of the snack bar line without much impatience, where she happily placed her order, "One slice of pepperoni, please."

The boy behind the counter had long dark hair that was so oily it was slicked down across is forehead. Atop this was a restaurant head-set that was really too high tech for a tiny snack bar, but she figured it must be part of the look. He looked over his right shoulder, "One pepperoni."

After a moment someone replied, "All out. Just cheese."

He turned back to Lily and gave an expression that rivaled even his earlier "I'm soooo bored" look. He opened his mouth more slowly than Lily thought was possible. _'I would have to make myself move that slowly,'_ she thought. "We're all out of pepperoni. We only have cheese."

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically, "I know. One cheese please." She smiled happily knowing she could turn this easily into another game.

He called the new order back and returned to face her. "That will be two dollars." He held out a hand impatiently.

"Two dollars?" Lily pretended to be seriously offended. "That's ridiculous! Straight up highway robbery."

"I don't make the prices. It's two dollars or no pizza." He pulsed his hand as a reminder of the money she owed him, but Lily was nowhere ready to give it up.

"How much was the pepperoni?" She pulled her best "concerned mother arguing for the sake of her child" face and pressed on.

"Two dollars."

"Then shouldn't the cheese be less? If I were willing to give you two dollars for cheese and pepperoni, then I should get a bargain for not getting the pepperoni, besides the fact that you should be willing to help me as much as you can because I didn't get what I really wanted." She breathed sharply for the first time thus far. "At some restaurants I've gotten my meal free when I didn't get what I wanted. One dollar and fifty cents is what I'll give you."

"The price of the pizza is two dollars, ma'am." Lily loved that workers had no choice but to address their customers with "respect" and that she was now being called ma'am. "If you don't pay the two dollars, I cannot give you any pizza."

"Is there a lesser ratio of cheese to crust to sauce on the pepperoni pizza or something so the mass of the it and the cheese pizza is the same? Then it would be okay that I'm paying two dollars for both."

Lily heard a distinct foot-tapping sound behind her and decided to hurry it up. Emo-boy was glaring her down, anyway.

"Here's two dollars," she said proudly, handing over the money with fake dignity, "No change, please. I've included your tip in my price."

The cashier gave an exasperated sigh and handed over the plate of microwave-warmed square pizza whose grease had already soaked the little paper plate the put it on. Lily moved as if she were going to walk away.

"Uhm, Sir?" She asked sweetly of the cashier.

"What?"

"I'd like some water to go with this." She smiled brightly and innocently. He replied by annoyedly pointing up into the stands.

Lily decided it would be best if she just walked away. Besides, he headache was strangely absent now.

Xxx…xxX

"I can't believe you missed the whole last quarter," Oliver whined to Lily in the Stake n' Shake around the corner from the fields.

"I can't help it if the mindless kid at the register was giving me a hard time," she sighed, taking a stab at her milkshake with her straw.

"I bet that was it," Maya rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Lily waved a fork in her direction, "At least I was doing something more productive than sucking the face off of Jess Stevenson."

Maya turned fuchsia.

"Harvey," Mike tried in an attempt to distract everyone from the blossoming argument, "You're the only person I know who eats french fries with a fork. And these little tiny stringy ones, too. You're crazy."

"What can I say?" Harvey smiled proudly, "I'm a man of my own accord."

"Lily," Oliver shot her a pathetic look, ignoring the busy conversations taking place around him, "You missed my goal."

Lily's mouth opened a little, and stupidly she shut it. She'd completely forgotten to ask about the score, and that two of her best friends were helping make it. "You made a goal?" she asked, apologetically.

"Oh man!" Mike jumped in, now clearly excited, "Did he ever! Greatest thing I've ever seen. It was like the movies. Last ten seconds, we didn't think he could do it. The Wasps block him, but he turns and SCORE! Freakin won the game, Oken," Mike was happily clapping him on the back, and Oliver, who seemed to forget that Lily hadn't seen it happen, was beaming.

After the tab was paid, Lily helped herself to the front seat of Oliver's car that took her home to the tune of two best friends catching up.

**A/N: Well that was certainly fun to write. I hope you're enjoying this so far. I promise in the next chapters we get to see more Lily and Oliver. I have to write this to get the point across now, though. Romance and some questionable situations to come very soon. Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	3. The Dust or the Words

**A/N: Chapter Three is up. I know this story hasn't been too romantically exciting up until this point, but we get pretty much straight Loliver in this one. I'm actually really pleased with this chapter. It starts off a little slow, but the second half is definitely one of my favorite Loliver moments I've written this far. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3: The Dust or the Words**

"Of course, before we go on to anything harder, we have to review the basics," Mr. Coleman stated to his students. "So we're going to do a little titration."

That was about where Lily stopped listening. From across the room she eyed Oliver, who nodded to her approvingly. Partners. And they knew what they were doing. Lily had done this lab probably three times before, and Oliver was a pretty damn smart kid who was doubling in science at the moment. She figured it would be okay for her to tune out this once.

After a few more moments of instruction, they rose from their seats and set to work gathering the NaOH and reactant and whatever else was supposed to go in the flask.

Lily found herself with a gentle grasp on her burette's knob, turning it slowly to allow only the tiniest amount of chemical to escape through the nozzle while Oliver stirred the mixture below. The anxiously awaited the turning point of their liquid.

"There! Pink!" Lily held a hand up to Oliver to stop and nearly jumped from her stool. "Hold up, where'd it go?" She said a moment later as the pool of color forming from the reaction faded into transparency.

"The ions dispersed. That's gunna happen plenty before it actually stays pink." Oliver nodded reasonably at her.

"Fine," she sat down reluctantly and tried to hold in her excitement each time a little more NaOH dropped in and the fuchsia color stayed a little longer.

"Lily, stop. That's it." Oliver grasped her hand on the knob to make her close it.

"Aw, but what fun is that?" reluctantly she withdrew her fingers. "All that work and we have to make it pale pink? Just a little more and it could be so much prettier."

"It's what Mr. Coleman asked for," Oliver noted the mL gone from the burette as he spoke.

"Figures," she sighed, "Mr. Coleman, we've got the pale pink." She called him over from another pair across the room.

He nodded approvingly and walked away again. "Do you want to wreck it?" Oliver grinned mischievously at her.

"Absolutely," she told him, turning the knob and letting the rest of the one clear liquid pour into the other until the product was a saturated, jewel pink. And for some reason, this brought immense satisfaction to both Lily and Oliver, who joked and laughed throughout the process until the final drop had been washed down the black counters' sink.

The pair snatched their things from the front of the classroom and ran from the door.

"Who would've though AP Chem could be so much fun?" Lily swung her messenger bag back and forth on her shoulder in time with her steps.

Oliver still had his hand on her shoulder from where he'd led her out of the classroom, "Always a pleasure working with you, Lillian."

"And you too, Oliver," they shook steadily. "Titrations have always been my favorite."

"You just like the colors," Lily slid her hand from his and gestured for him to follow her down the hallway. "I can't. I've got Government this period," he looked at her longingly, "But look, Lils, I feel like I haven't seen you all year. Let's hang out on Saturday. I really want to talk to you."

Lily found herself wishing suddenly they were younger, that senior year wasn't the last of it before they separated. _'That's awfully dramatic for before lunch,'_ she told herself, letting the thought slip from her mind. "I'd love that, Oliver. How about we go to the park down the street from my house?"

He nodded, leaning in and giving her a quick peck on the forehead before turning and heading hurriedly down the hall.

_'I'll go work on my photos, then,'_ Lily told herself and returned to her locker to gather her supplies. She checked her reflection in the little wire mesh mirror hanging on her locker door and pulled a little canvas bag she was pretty sure used to be for cosmetics from the top shelf. When she reached for the big black binder, she felt a strong hang on her shoulder.

"Lily," she turned.

"Will," she gulped. She'd almost forgotten that she'd run into him over the weekend, but there was no forgetting now that his bright eyes were boring into hers and his seducing scent was wafting tauntingly through her nostrils. "How's it going?" She tried to look casual as she swung her locker closed and leaned up against it.

"Pretty well, actually," he grinned and slouched a bit on one leg. _'Adorable.'_ "It was nice seeing you this weekend."

"Yeah. I'd never really talked to you much before. It's nice to get to know you."

"And you," an honest smile crossed his face forming little dimples along his cheeks. Lily noted it immediately. "Speaking of getting to know one another, I was thinking we might be able to do a little more of that. We should hang out some time."

Lily felt every bone in her body disappear, which of course resulted in the dropping of her pencil bag, which of course resulted in a very loud thud that interrupted the fantastic conversation the pair had been having a moment earlier.

"Oh, sorry," Lily blushed furiously and knelt to pick it up, but Will already had grasped it and was holding it out for her to take, looking her straight in the eyes.

"No problem." She accepted the bag graciously, tucking it back inside the blue messenger she always carried. "So, do you have a cell phone I could reach you at?"

'_Cell phone, address, room number…'_ "Sure," she pulled out a pen as he graciously ripped a corner of paper from the notebook Lily just realized he was carrying. _'Oh right,'_ she reminded herself, _'school's happening.'_

She handed him the little scrap of college-ruled and he gave her a slight nod as he tucked it into the pocket of his fantastically-fitting blue jeans and gave a slight wave, "I'll talk to you soon."

Lily hoped that was a promise. She couldn't wait to tell Maya. When she reached the photo lab a moment or two later, she realized she'd never taken out her black portfolio binder, and it sat patiently still in her locker two floors down.

Xxx…xxX

Lily rubbed the scratched skin on her arm tenderly as she stepped gingerly across her yard, trying to stay hidden in the shadow of ten o'clock at night. Climbing out a window was certainly not as graceful as the romanticized movies played it out to be. She wouldn't say she was _sneaking out_, really, but both she and Oliver were bud until later at night, and there was no way she was passing up the chance to hang out with him. There were some things her parents just didn't need to know.

Two blocks later the park came into view, and seated on the center swing, gently pushing and pulling his feet through the wood chips was Oliver Oken, waiting for her. She knew he must have seen her because he smiled suddenly and motioned towards the swing set.

She galloped over to meet him joyfully, seating herself enthusiastically next to him. The red plastic seats were shorter than Lily remembered. Had she grown that much in the past few years? She hadn't thought so. She settled herself in and began tentatively kicking at the ground to get up some momentum. "So what do you want to talk about?" Her words were louder than she expected in the otherwise silent night.

"Dunno," he shrugged, twisting the plastic-coated metal chains of his swing to face her. "What's on your mind?"

She took a moment to consider, pumping her legs a little harder and getting just a little higher in turn. She'd almost forgotten the question when Oliver began doing the same. Soon they were flying in rhythm to one another, back and forth until it occurred to Lily that they'd come to talk, so she slowed a bit, pulling a sneaker-clad foot through the wood chips. "Are you worried about college?" she asked tentatively.

"Worried how?" he looked at her for clarity.

"I don't know. Any of it?" she leaned back so her long blonde hair fell off her shoulders. She turned sideways just far enough to stop herself before the ends dragged in the dirt.

"Sure," he copied her, not having the long hair to worry about (Lily was thrilled that he'd decided to cut off his mop head during junior year.) "I mean, I'm not too worried about getting in. I know where I want to go, and it's not too much of a reach,"

"Plus you're a genius who could get in anywhere."

"I wish you guys wouldn't say that. Besides, it's not all about grades anymore. I can't get in just anywhere because I'm smart," he proceeded in twisting his swing so far that his feet no longer touched the ground and the swing spun quickly the opposite direction of it's own accord.

"You're right. It's all about how pretty we are," she sighed, "Guess you're screwed after all, Oliver."

"Haha, Lillian. Just because you're an obvious in with those looks of yours doesn't mean you should make fun of us less fortunate."

"Aww, thanks, Ollie," she blushed a bit and watched her lap intently, "but really, you don't have to tell me that kind of stuff. I don't care what I look like."

"Oh stop," Oliver laughed, pointing a finger accusingly at her, "You're beautiful Lily. Besides, I know every girl cares way too much what she looks like. Don't think you can fool me."

She giggled a bit under her breath and turned away. Oliver loved telling her how good she looked. She never fully believed him, but there was something flattering about hearing it all the time. She examined her shoes thoughtfully, noticing she'd forgotten to change the laces to the red ones as she'd planned. In the silence that ensued a new thought came to mind. She inhaled deeply before letting anything out, unsure of whether or not this would be something she could talk about Oliver with. Letting go of her pride, she whispered, "So there's this guy."

Oliver's feet, too, hit the ground to halt him, sending brown earthy dust into the air around them. "A guy?" he choked, whether on the dust or the words Lily was unsure.

She could tell that she was blushing even in the darkness. She'd never had a boyfriend to talk about with anyone with before, let alone Oliver. She felt a little out of place, but if she could talk to anyone about it, it should be him, right? "Yeah, I think I might really like him."

She heard Oliver swallow hard, but was watching her feet intently now. "Really?" The word was tight in his throat. She could tell he wanted to hear more, so she continued.

"Well it's just really recently that I realized how serious it must be. I mean, suddenly our relationship is a lot closer than it used to be, but I don't want to take any chances," she was almost whispering her confessions to him.

He took a long moment, to think she assumed, before answering. "What chances could there be?" His words were curious, but almost knowing. How did he already know if she didn't?

"Well, what if I decide to tell him, or you know, do something else that might clue him in, and he doesn't feel the same way?" Both swings were still.

"Lily," Oliver pleaded with her. His words were slow and deliberate. "I'm pretty sure he feels the same way."

"How do you know?" Her head shot up in eager curiosity.

"It's just a feeling Lil. Besides, who wouldn't like you?"

"I don't know, Oliver, but let's be serious. We've been around each other for pretty much forever, and it was a little while ago that I started wondering if there might be more to it, and suddenly it's like _wham_, there it is. Take your chance."

"So what's the problem?"

"What if I'm imagining it? I feel like he might be interested. Actually, I'm pretty sure of it, the way he looks at me and talks to me. It's like he suddenly realized that I might be good for something more, and he's acting on it too." Oliver gulped. "But maybe I'm just getting a little carried away with myself. Wishful thinking, right?"

"I don't think so."

"Well it's not as if you could know," she whined sadly.

Oliver sighed deeply. "Do I know this guy?"

"Yeah, you know him."

"Well?"

"You could say that. I'd venture a guess that you guys are taking just about every class together this semester."

Oliver seemed to be considering the possibility silently.

"Maybe it's time for a change in relationship."

"I think you might be right, Lily. We've been friends for a long time."

"What?" Lily's thoughts were scrambled. Were they on the same page?

"We've been friends for a long time. That's what I said."

"Oh, right, right. That's why I decided to tell you this. I didn't know if I could talk about this kind of thing with you, but I figured 'who would know better?', right?"

"Right," Oliver sighed.

"I don't want it to wreck a good friendship, though."

"Maybe the friendship is supposed to be more. Maybe that's just the first step."

"Yeah," she paused. "Homecoming is coming up."

"What?" She seemed to catch him off guard.

"Homecoming."

"Gotcha. I know a confused girl who I'd really like to help out by asking," he smiled a bit to himself, but Lily caught it.

"Really?" Lily locked eyes with him passionately, leaning in a bit. "Lucky girl. Do I know her?"

"You definitely know her."

"I bet she'll be thrilled to be asked by you. She probably thinks about it all the time."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you think about it all the time?"

"Oh, you mean when he's going to ask me?"

"Yeah."

"No, not really. I mean, I hadn't gotten that far in my planning yet."

"Oh," Oliver dropped her gaze.

Lily kicked at the earth again, sending her swing into gentle rocking. "Do you think I should tell him?"

Oliver followed suit. "If he doesn't tell you first."

"What do you think he'll say?"

Lily pumped higher, leaving Oliver in steady slow motion below her. But she could still hear him breathing. Maybe not hear him, but she could sense what he was doing without looking. He inhaled sharply, standing from his swing and reaching out to grab the chain from which her swing hung, slowing her and positioning himself until he was standing straight before her looking her in the eyes.

"He'd say 'Lily, I – "

"My phone!" she cut him off, digging through her pocket to find the buzzing contraption. Oliver moved aside as she jumped form the swing. Definitely the most inconveniently-timed phone calls of all time. She glanced down at the screen, "Oliver! Her free hand grabbed his wrist, "It's him!"

Lily felt Oliver go limp as he dropped the chains, "What?" he asked dumb-struck.

"It's him! Calling me on a Saturday night! Can you believe it?" She dropped his hand and ran towards the jungle gym calling, "Sorry Oliver, I've got the take this." She pulled open the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey, Lily," his voice seemed unusually deep over the phone, much to the ecstasy of Lily.

"Hey Will," she settled against the climbing pole, leaning her back against it and propping one knee up casually, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she giggled at the formality.

Even through the hollowness of the phone call, Lily heard his words clearly. "Homecoming is coming up. I was hoping you'd be my date."

She grinned uncontrollable and rocked along the pole nervously, letting her spine roll off the curve with each movement. "That sounds fantastic," she told him giddily.

"Great, but I've got to go. I'll call you later with the details. Bye!" Lily heard the distinct sound of the call drop, but it was a good two minutes before she willingly closed her own phone. The conversation was still so close. She was going to be Will Giordano's date to senior Homecoming. She had to let Oliver know.

"Oliver!" she called as she ran back towards the swings, stuffing the phone back into her pocket as she went. "Oliver!"

But when she got there, his swing was empty, and in the distance she saw his dark figure, hands in pockets and head slung low, walking home for the night.

**A/N: What do you think? I personally love this exchange. Poor Oliver, right? Don't worry. Lily will come around eventually, even if she doesn't know it yet. Homecoming is up next, though, and dances are always just too fun to write. Not to mention dresses are involved, and who doesn't love getting all dressed up? Well, Lily for that matter. But enough with the rambling, thanks for reading, and please review!**


	4. Vulnerable

**A/N: Sorry for the bit of a wait. Christmas is a busy time. I'll be honest, I'm a little discouraged at the moment. Thus far, I've received exactly two reviews, a fact which is making me a little doubtful about this. I know the story starts off a little slow, but I promise, even without the straight sap of "Tell Me", it's going to get better, and there's going to be more of Lily and Oliver. But what fun is the romance if there isn't a little struggle leading up to it. Anyway, this chapter: Homecoming. Are you pumped? I am. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Oh my gosh. Can you believe I forgot it again? It's clearly been a while since I've been posting on fanfiction. Anyway, you'll notice that neither Miley Stewart nor Hannah Montana exist in this fic, and so while it's fairly unnecessary, I renounce all claim to the characters and references you recognize. Because, you know, I owned them previous to this.**

**Chapter 4: Vulnerable**

"I can't believe you, Maya," Lily stared in anguish at the friend beaming back at her.

"Lily," she sighed, shaking her head, "It looks fantastic!" She pulled a mirror off the counter and held it up for Lily to examine more closely the curls that covered her head.

"It looks like you, May." While grasping the mirror with one hand, her other found it's way to the heaped up-do, gently tapping at the pile with her fingernail. "Hard as a rock," she threw Maya a suspicious and teasing glance.

"Oh it is not," she pulled the mirror from Lily's hand, making better use of the time to pull her fingers through a few strands and adjust a few bobby pins. "It would take someone without my expertise way more hairspray to pull this look off," she laughed.

"Oh thank God," Lily rolled her eyes and stood. "Where's the suicide request of a dress you picked out for me?"

"Cut it out, Lils," she reached for a clear plastic garment bag at the front of Lily's closet. "You know it makes you look hot." Lily tossed her a knowing smile over her shoulder As uncomfortable as her dress made her feel, she positively loved the way it made her look. With a gracious smile she pulled the hanger form the garment bag as Maya pushed it in her direction. "Yikes. Someone's excited."

The sweatpants and the T-shirts fell to the floor as the pair changed quickly into their dresses. Lily felt warm air hit her body as her clothes fell away. It was uncharacteristically warm out; probably to make up for the frigid weather at recent soccer games. Maya, too, had brought her dress over to Lily's house so that they could get ready together. High School tradition; they'd been doing this since freshman year.

Lily fumbled a bit with the tie on the neck of her dress before glancing up at Maya, who was the epitome of senior homecoming queen. They should have handed her the crown right there she looked so…so…cliché. But it was fabulous nonetheless. Her dress was strapless and white with bright flowery swirls across the bust, around the hem, and down the pleat in the front. It was empire wasted with a thick pink ribbon folded into a double bow that met in the middle with a sparkling broach. It fell a little above her knee, and she had little white bow heels to top it off.

Somewhere between admiring her friend's natural ability when it came to dressing up and pulling the zipper on the back of her dress (a difficult feat), Maya exclaimed, "Lily, you look fantastic!" In an instant she was pulling Lily in front of the full-length mirror that hung on the inside of her bedroom door.

Lily smiled no so subtly, secretly very pleased that her skateboard-natured self could clean up so well. Her dress was pale yellow, a halter with thick straps that tied into a large bow (that she simply could not get to lie flat) on the back of her neck. The bodice was made from horizontal, delicate folds of fabric all decorated in tiny silver beads that swirled their way up onto the bust. The skirt puffed outward and fell to her knee in an almost period style, and the too-high-to-be-healthboard-approved silver beaded heels she wore made her legs look much longer than her 5' 4" stature usually did.

"I can't believe you're letting me dress you up like this," Maya laughed, pushing into the mirror to look at herself along with Lily, making little posing faces and turning every direction to get a better view of herself.

"I can't believe I'm liking it," Lily joined her, not quite sure what she was looking to see with each turn.

"Just a few little things," Maya reached towards Lily and began fussing.

"Such a control freak," Lily elbowed her friend jokingly as she got nearer. Maya's quick fingers untied to bow on the back of her neck and, as Lily watched in the mirror nervously, retied it much straighter. Lily felt the back of her dress move down a bit when fingers came dangerously close to something she really did not want her best friend touching.

"Maya!" she squealed as her bra came unhooked and was dragged down her shoulders, causing a very uncomfortable sensation. She scrambled to smack at her friend, who was giggling.

"Well you can't wear it under _that_," she pointed, "It's going to show."

"But what am I supposed to wear then?" Lily looked at her suspiciously, taking control and removing the bra completely on her own.

"Nothing, Lils," Lily's mouth opened widely but Maya jumped in again before she could say anything more, "Oh calm down. Your dress is padded."

"Fine," she grumbled a little, wishing now she'd picked a dress with a more modest neckline.

"I think my work here is done," she stood proudly clapping her hands back and forth. She grabbed her curling iron and stuffed it precariously into the colorful tote she'd used to bring all of her supplies over. Reaching for the door, she turned and smiled, "You're going to blow Will's mind," then hurried down the stairs.

Lily's eyes mentally popped. She imagined her jaw dropping. She'd almost forgotten whom she was getting all dressed up for. But she didn't move, just stared at herself in the mirror. Maybe, looking like this, she could actually make this relationship work out.

It seemed like just seconds had passed since Maya's car drove out of her driveway that a new one pulled in.

_'Oh God,'_ Lily felt a little nauseated, _'He's here.'_ Where was the corsage? Her purse? Wasn't she supposed to find that lip gloss earlier today? Why was she only thinking of this now? Then she vaguely remembered already having this panic attack and glanced over at her desk where sitting was a little silver clutch and the oversized plastic grocery store box that held the deliacte yellow flower she'd picked out that morning. She took a moment to send thanks to the heavens for the organizational expertise of Maya.

The doorbell rang.

Blood rushed through her veins with excitement. She ran down the stairs to meet her parents, ecstatic with that "Our little baby's growing up" kind of face. She glared at them for a moment, "Oh stop."

Lily's mother only smiled bigger, "I've got the camera."

_'Awkward.'_ Lily remembered that this was the first time she'd ever have to take pictures for homecoming. She'd always gone with Oliver. It was the default setting when it came to dances. She didn't know if she could handle just standing with Will's arm around her waist and smiling naturally for a camera for a solid ten minutes.

She reached for the door tentatively, not sure if she was ready to submit herself to the frivolity of the evening. Without another second to spare, she turned the knob and pulled.

"Lily," Will breathed in that oh-so-heart-crushing way, "you look stunning."

She opened the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside as she nodded a gracious thanks in his direction. "You too," she grinned. She wished she could be a little more flirtatious with him (that skill she's recently realized she had), but her parents standing all but three feet from her did not present itself as the most appropriate situation for such things.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Truscott," he shook hands with ease. The boy knew _exactly_ what he was doing, Lily noted. And thank goodness, because she hadn't a clue.

Xxx…xxX

The gym was beautiful. Pictures were bearable and dinner had been fine; she'd actually made it through the small talk pretty well, but this moment took the cake. It was utterly sappy-teen-chick-flick approved. The lights were low and warm and streamers fell tastefully from the walls. It didn't look at all like that place she'd run circles around hundreds of times before, and the fact that Will's hand rested firmly on the small of her back, quite near to where the fabric of her dress stopped in a deeply-cut back Lily noted, as he lead her towards the masses certainly did not tone down the romantic mood of the moment.

Lily wondered for a fleeting moment if a guy had ever made her happier.

"Punch?" he questioned affectionately.

"No thanks," she shook her head gingerly, her cheeks already red. They only turned brighter as Will hands reached her shoulders from behind, making her shudder involuntarily as he pulled the shall from her arms and held a hand out for her purse, which she handed him gladly. He disappeared for a moment, just long enough for Lily to catch sight of an Oliver-like character near the far end of the gym with a girl Lily couldn't quite make out from where she stood.

"Looking for someone?" Will was back and seductively close to her. Didn't he know she wouldn't make it through the night if he kept this up?

"Oh, no," she giggled. Giggling, great. How nervous could she be? "I was just looking at the gym. They really made something of it, huh?"

Will looked away from her for the first time that evening to see the gym. "They did." He glanced back to her and caught her eyes, not dropping her gaze for a moment. Lily felt something move in the bottom of her stomach. He was driving her crazy.

"Let's dance," he told her, and she nodded enthusiastically, grasping the hand he'd held out to her and willingly being led out to the center of the now-carpeted floor.

It was as if Will knew that one of her favorite songs, a slow one nonetheless, would come on at just that moment. God, this boy _was_ a god. He watched her intently and waited for her to move.He was _waiting_ for _her_ to start dancing. _'Damnit,'_ Lily suddenly regretted so arrogantly refusing those ballroom dance lessons her mother had suggested so many years ago, _'What am I supposed to do now?'_

She settled on hands. She'd do something with those first. She moved them tentatively to the back of his neck, brushing it lightly and letting them fall gently apart on his shoulders (which looked fantastic in that sports jacket). Boldly, she took an obvious step forward.

She looked up at him sheepishly, noticing he was chuckling a bit about her forward movement, but he mimicked her all the same, moving his body quite close to hers as he placed both of his hands strongly in the center of her bare back. They were hot.

The music played familiarly in the background, and he swayed her a bit back and forth, turning on occasion, but barely moving really, holding her glance heatedly for a bit without ever wiping that confident grin off his face. After a few moments, Lily, unable to resist but wondering if she were really allowed to take advantage of him like this, pulled much closer so that her body was flush against his, her head turned to the side on his firm chest, her arms wrapped tighter than before.

And he let her do it.

"May I cut in?" a familiar voice sounded somewhere near her, but Lily couldn't make sense of where it was coming from. She suddenly realized that the song had ended, and here she was, still pressed tightly to the boy she'd been talking to for only two weeks now. Her arms dropped suddenly and she backed away. He was smiling at her, clearly amused.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, looking away.

"Don't be." She had to _really_ look away now. She knew he was watching her turn quickly pink in the face. She decided to look occupied and glanced towards the DJ.

But Oliver Oken was in the way. Blinking suddenly and losing her fuchsia coloring, she remembered vaguely the voice that had pulled her date and herself apart. "Hi Oliver," she almost questioned him.

Oliver smiled warmly at her, then turned to Will, asking politely, "Could I have her for a dance?" Lily knew she should be offended that she was being passed around between men. Couldn't she say for herself who she would dance with? But feminism forgotten, it sure felt good to be so wanted, so protected, so vulnerable.

"Absolutely," he nodded. The chivalry was almost sickening, but perfect all the same. Oliver held out his hand to her and she took it slowly, glancing once back at Will in reluctance to leave him. As Oliver lead her away, she noticed the girl he had held on his arm earlier, Michelle Baum, nodding to Will, accepting what must have been his invitation to dance.

"Will Giordano?" Oliver looked calmly down at her in question.

"Mmhm," she told him, not sure what she was supposed to be doing. The music was playing, now quickly, but Oliver made no move to dance.

He sighed. He _sighed_. Plain "I-wish-it-weren't-so" reluctance. "He's a good guy." The corner of his mouth curved up a bit as it he were going to smile, but it was only a very matter-of-fact look that met her.

"What's wrong, Oliver," Lily chided in a hope to lighten the mood. She needed to get out of the teenage drama for a moment to clear her head, "Jealous?" She raised an eyebrow jokingly at him.

He stared back at her intently, "Yes."

Lily was caught. Her plan backfired. Now what? She was face-to-face with Oliver, who was making no move to dance, get punch, say anything more than what he just had. Why did he think she was clever enough to talk her way around that one?

So she stood there watching him for a moment, waiting for a new idea to come to mind. "Michelle Baum?" She nodded towards Will and the pretty girl he danced with. She had long thick auburn hair that fell to the beginning of the turquoise dress on her back. "How'd that happen?"

Oliver relaxed, letting Lily worry a little less. "It's a long story," he laughed a little. "Actually, she kind of asked me. But what choice did I have? You ditched me on our three-year-strong tradition." He tried to laugh it off, unconvincingly, Lily noted.

Oh. Oops. "I'm sorry Oliver," she told him honestly, "But _I_ was asked to homecoming. I've been waiting for this since sophomore year." Her eyes met his in question. "And what do you mean kind of asked you?"

He shrugged boyishly, "Like I said, long story." The song was over before Lily had quite finished talking to him, but Will was quick to be back at her side, and Michelle had done the same to Oliver, who grinned back at her. They looked sweet together.

"Ready to get back on the dance floor?"

Enthusiastically, she nodded.

Xxx…xxX

Lily was happy to find that Will was not into grinding, something she really could not bring herself to do. No, they'd spent the whole night happily swaying and twisting about, laughing a bit at the fact that neither of them was a particularly good dancer. But even so, he made butterflies in her stomach and pinkness on her cheeks a permanent factor as long as he was with her.

He pulled into her driveway long after it had gotten dark. For a fleeting moment, Lily wondered what time it might be, and glanced down at the little digital clock above the radio of his (lovely) car. The green light flashed 11:11 at her. Hoping he wouldn't look over just then, she closed her eyes as the engine shut off and wished.

When she blinked them open again, he was at her door, pulling it open and holding out a hand to help her. She took it gladly and pulled herself out of the car. Still facing her, Will took one hand and pushed the door closed, skillfully placing Lily between him and it as he worked, causing her to back up against the red-painted metal. He'd very knowingly cornered her, and she'd very knowingly let him.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" His words were honest and passionate, and his eyes were still glaring intently into hers. Lily knew she would never get over that. Besides, his arm was still holding the door closed, ensuring that she wouldn't be able to move from him.

"I had a great time, Will," she looked up at him longingly, "Thank you so much," she tried not to sound mushy, but she knew better than to think she could pull that off.

"Lily?" He looked away, as if nervous for the first time since she'd met him.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he'd spared her the burden, dipping in and catching her lips on his for a brief and powerful moment. She was still, taking it, and after a moment he pulled away.

She was beaming, and she knew it. And when Will opened his eyes and looked down at her, he laughed, moving his hand to her back and leading her up the driveway. He stopped at her doorway, and she turned to watch him. "Goodnight, Lily."

She watched him walk away, turning back to catch her glance once before she shut the door. Peering out the little window cut from it's top, she saw him pull away, still looking for her, so she smiled approvingly. She saw him smile back.

When the car was out of sight, she finally turned to face her living room, leaning against the door, grinning like a mad woman and trying to catch her breath.

It was the soft buzz of a cell phone against her leg that brought her back to reality, and she pulled it form her purse. The front screen read "Oliver", so she flipped it open and held it up to her ear.

"Hello?" She let herself slide down the back of her door slowly until she was resting on the floor, not able to take the happiness and the burden of standing all at once.

"Hey Lily. How was your night?" The voice was deep and caring and warmed Lily just a little more.

"Oh Oliver," she started, knowing it would be hours before she cold ever run out of things to tell him about her evening, "It was fantastic."

Shut up alone in his bedroom, Oliver sighed.

**A/N: Yes, yes, I know, not quite the shipping you were hoping for. But getting Oliver all down about it is part of my master plan. It's going somewhere, I swear. Besides, you'll notice that we couldn't let Lily just go to bed happy, eh? The chapter ends with Oliver, of course. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Please review, and happy holidays!**


	5. Goose Bumps

**A/N: Chapter Five. Much to my delight, I've gotten this up before going to bed. You'll notice the return of a song very close to the hearts of many of myreaders in this chapter. Oh, Princess Pat, clearly everyone who reads loliver fanfiction used to be a Girl Scout, which, I suppose, makes a reasonable amount of sense. Anyway, her starts the fun, dear readers. And it certainly does not stop next chapter, so keep reading. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I'm really not that into Hannah Montana. I just like the Lily/Oliver business. So, I have no regrets in telling you that I have no relation to Hannah Montana. Also, I can't get sued by saying that Mitchell Musso is in serious need of a haircut. Jeez, boy.**

**Chapter 5: Goose Bumps**

Four yellow buses were pulled into the turn around, ready to carry one hundred and seventeen seniors, twenty-three adults, and luggage for all of them out to South Hillbrook Metroparks for the next two days. It was as cool in the first week of October as it should be, but most of the students standing on the front lawn of the high school were dressed only in light sweatshirts and jackets as the sunny sky had fooled them.

"I can't believe it's already October," Lily swung her green duffle off her shoulder and onto the ground next to where her sleeping bag was lying.

"I know," Oliver shrugged, "I feel like we just got out of junior year."

Lily nodded, "And summer was short."

"You were away."

"My cousin was getting married in New Orleans," she twisted her large red bandana around her wrist as she spoke, "It's not like I could have gotten out of that one."

"You should have taken me with you," Oliver accused, turning away and lifting his nose high in the air as if offended.

"Ha-ha, Oliver. It's not like you would have enjoyed yourself. You know, trying on bridesmaid dresses and fixing flower arrangements.

He turned back to her forgivingly, "I would have helped you try on bridesmaid dresses," he grinned mischievously.

She took the liberty of whipping him playfully with her bandana. "Shut up."

Oliver rubbed the spot on his arm she hit tenderly in mock pain. "You're so mean to me, Lillian Truscott." He paused, pulling the bottle of water out of his backpack and taking a swig. Wiping his mouth, he asked her, "Speaking of weddings, where's Will?"

Lily glared, holding up her bandana as a reminder of what she could do, a threat. "Will," she spat, then recomposed herself dramatically, "is in Lake Placid. His sister is skating Junior Nationals today, and he went to watch."

"How sweet," Oliver joked, batting his eyelashes jokingly.

"Stop," she giggled, "It's a really great thing for him to do. She's only twelve. She could use the support."

"I guess," he started, looking over his shoulder at their moving classmates, "Oh, Lils," he motioned back to her, "bus." She grabbed her sleeping back and duffle off the ground, swinging them over her shoulder with a grunt. For as light a packer as she was, these bags were particularly heavy.

She unbent her contorted body until she was upright, seeing Oliver having just done the same thing before her. She followed him begrudgingly, waiting her turn in the line of impatient seniors, then trudging up the three unfairly steep steps of Bus Three before reaching the hot stuffy air of inside. She slid into one of the front seats where she'd seen Oliver sit a moment earlier, reaching over him immediately to pull down the window.

"Lily," he laughed as she fumbled with the little plastic pieces that would let the window slide, "Get your boobs out of my face."

Lily's face went red, but she made no motion to move, as the window was still stuck. Why is it that she was always trying to open these damn things from such a bad angle? And why were they always stuck? "Oh, you like it, Oliver," she teased, readjusting herself so she was a little closer to his face inadvertently, but was very possible closer to opening the window, "Besides, you could always help me out a little if it bothers you that much," she instructed, but at that instant the window fell, and Lily retook her seat.

The bus started moving a moment later, and Lily found herself shifting things around until her sleeping bag was tucked neatly beneath her seat and her duffle was lying across her lap should she need to reach anything. Oliver had done nearly the same, then turned to her.

"So tell me about you and Will," he told her.

She made a questionable face in his direction, "That was blunt, Oliver." She paused, unzipping the side pocket of her bag to retrieve the hair rubberband she'd slid in their earlier, pulling it around her wrist before reaching up to her hair. "What do you want to know?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, "How serious are you guys?" Lily noticed that he wouldn't hold her gaze, but gave in to answer anyway.

"Oh gross, Oliver. We're just dating, okay? He kissed me at homecoming, and it's just been a little bit here and there since then. It's just fun," she sighed as she worked her fingers through the back of her head.

"Whoa whoa, wait. He kissed you?" Oliver was glaring her down now.

Calmly, she continued her braiding. "Of course. God, Oliver. We're dating. As in, at the moment, he's my boyfriend. I think he has the right to kiss me."

"Guess so," he mumbled, looking down into his lap. "You guys hang out much?"

"Yeah, a little," she told him, tying off the end of her braid, "He's taken me out the last two Friday nights."

"Oh."

"What do you mean, 'Oh'?" Now unoccupied by hair, she glanced at him. "Don't sound so indignant."

"Well I just didn't realize that's what you were doing when I called you last Friday about our hang out day."

"Feeling a little snubbed, eh?" Lily teased him. "Don't be such a baby. I came to your house on Saturday like always, so what is there to worry about?"

"Well," he said pointedly, "I just think I should be able to reach you on Friday nights if I need to talk to you about our Saturday nights, Lily. We've been hanging out every Saturday night since we were ten. You've been seeing this Will kid for what, two weeks?" He glanced out the window, not letting Lily get a good look at him to see if he was joking. But boy was he being stubborn.

"Yes, two weeks, actually. And jeez Oliver, I'm not going to pick up a call from another guy while I'm on a date." She rested a hand on his shoulder, which he promptly shook off.

He whipped around after her last word, "Oh, so now they're dates!?" He asked wildly, and Lily swore she saw him come out of his seat a bit.

"Of course they're dates, Oliver! We're dating!" She laughed again, but Oliver refused to speak for a little while, only coaxed out of his silence at Lily's mention of their plans for next Saturday.

Xxx…xxX

"So this is how it works," Mrs. Yates called to her group of ten seniors, leading them over to the first low-ropes course soon after they'd arrived and set out their things. Lily, Oliver, and eight other seniors who had been closest to them when they were told to form groups, stood curiously studying the scene before them. Two wooden platforms sat low to the ground, about fifteen feet apart, and between them hung a long rope that Lily guessed was for swinging.

"Everyone starts on this side," the young English teacher pointed, "And has to swing to that one safely." _'Seems simple enough. So much for stereotypical trust-building exercises.' _Lily thought, looking up at Oliver reassuringly. "Once the first person is across, he or she has to stay on the platform. Then the second person swings, third, fourth fifth, et cetera," she continued simply. "But no one is allowed to get off the platform until after the sixth person has swung. That means there must always be five people standing there."

Lily looked curiously again at the ground before her. That did look like an awfully small arrangement of boards. And people would be swinging into it once it was full.

"Once everyone's made it, you all swing back, always keeping five people on each platform as long as there are that many on the side. If anyone falls or steps off, you're back to the other side." She was standing commandingly holding the rope now, smiling at the challenge she was offering the seniors, who, oddly enough, seemed pretty into it. "Ready?" She held out the rope, pointing to Oliver.

He took it gladly, not wasting time and hopping quickly onto one platform. With a momentous push, he flew to the other side, jumping off onto the second, keeping the rope in hand so as not to lose it to the middle. Oliver himself took up a good deal of room. Lily wondered how they'd all fit.

She, having been standing next to him, found herself as second in line, and took the rope he threw back to her, mimicking Oliver's movement and finding herself next to him on the other side, happily congratulating herself on a good swing.

When Gabriella Ford swung across, Lily was ready to call it quits. The three of them fit snugly across the platform, and Lily had no desire to be crammed any farther. But of course, the fourth senior swung, landing not so gracefully in the leaf-covered dirt below them. Trying again, he reached the group, but it was Oliver's hand that reached out and grabbed the top of the rope that kept him from falling back once he'd gotten there, as there was nowhere for him to put his feet.

Gaby wrapped her arm around his shoulder and pulled him inward. The four adjusted to the new number of people, shifting and holding one another until they were settled. The boy threw the rope back to the other side.

"Wow," Gaby whispered into Lily's ear after a bit of rearranging, "Oliver sure likes holding on to you, huh?" she grinned, glancing down to Lily's middle where she hadn't realized he'd rested his hand. Gaby looked away, silently enjoying her teasing, but suddenly Lily couldn't stop thinking about it. That one hand, spread flush against her stomach. In the moment the fifth senior was flying across the stretch of dirt, Lily mentally traced that hand upward to the arm snaked around her waist, back to his shoulder and chest that she could feel against her back. Oh yes, she realized, Oliver's entire body was pressed tightly against her own, and he seemed very _very_ warm.

Senior number five was caught by senior number four skillfully and pulled in by Gaby. Lily had reached out an arm to help, but, having been very distracted, was quite late. And with a fifth person on the platform, there was a good deal less room for them all, and Lily was pressed only closer to Oliver's form.

_'I can feel his hip bone'_ Lily realized, focusing on the small of her back where something sharp hit it at a strange angle. _'And his chest muscles, Oh God. Oliver has muscles.'_ She realized in agony, not being able to think of anything else until something moved. It was his hand that had come off her stomach and was now holding the rope of person number six, who, with no help form occupied Lily, had made her way to their side.

Lily felt cold air rush against the spot on her stomach, and, as if they'd been suctioned together, she felt Oliver peel off the back of her body, making her shiver in the absence of his warmth. _'That's right,'_ She realized, almost sadly, _'It's his turn to get off now. Stop it Lily, you're not upset about it.' _She reminded herself.

When it was her turn to get off, she hopped off the back of the platform, moving for almost the first time since she'd gotten on it. She walked over to where Oliver was standing, completely red in the face. He attempted to throw an arm around her, but she rejected him, shaking it off and stepping away a bit so she wasn't facing him.

Glancing up once, she saw him smiling proudly. She turned away to see the end of the activity, trying not to think about how she'd be in exactly the same situation as soon as they had to get to the other side. "Bastard," she mumbled to herself.

Xxx…xxX

_He had pushed her nervously into the corner of his living room couch. She'd just come over to drop of a book she borrowed, and somehow, here they'd managed to get. His lips moved in rhythm with hers as he pressed just a little harder against her. She felt her knees go weak and was instantly thankful for the support beneath her._

_"Will," she breathed, and his head came up in question._

_"What's wrong?" he asked, short on breath and flushed. It was an incredibly sexy look, and it took near all of Lily's strength not to pull him right back down on top of her. "Is this too far?" He looked worried._

_But Lily shook her head. There was nothing wrong with a little harmless fun. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," she whispered._

_He grinned and moved back in, holding himself above her with one arm and gently caressing her cheek with the other before moving it down to her side. Following his beat, she pressed a hand lightly to his toned chest, moving her lips deliciously against his and pausing only when needing to breathe._

"Lily?" Maya questioned her, and Lily looked up. Had she been daydreaming again? That boy would surely be the death of her; she knew it. It took a moment to regain consciousness of her surroundings, but she recognized them quickly. She sat across the table from Maya under one of the pavilions, chatting and doodling idly in an old notebook. She glanced down frantically, checking that nothing she'd drawn was particularly explicit. Thus far, no. She relaxed, seeing only a sad attempt at a starfish and a particularly tiny sketch of a fairly familiar couch.

"You okay, Lily?" Maya asked her. Lily nodded, wondering how long she'd been out of it. Their free time had started at two, and she still remembered two thirteen.

"What time is it?" She asked, surprised at how mousy her voice sounded in the quiet afternoon around them.

"Uh," Maya glanced down at the delicate silver watch around her wrist, "Two sixteen. Lily, do you want some water or something?" More questions, Lily shook her head.

"I've gotta go make a call," she shrugged, stood, and disappeared.

"You're not supposed to have your cell phone on!" Maya called to her from her bench seat as a reminder.

Lily, catching on, redirected herself in the path of the girls' bathroom.

Xxx…xxX

After a short call with Will (Greta hadn't skated yet, and he would text her an update later that night), another ropes course, some admittedly stupid but amusing games, and dinner, the nearly whole senior class found it's way around a bonfire just down the road from the pavilions.

Sitting on a short arrangement of logs were four of Lily's best friends. Next to her was Oliver, across were Harvey and Maya, and, on the ground complaining about it was Mike, who hadn't seemed to fit on the logs. Oops. What fun campfires were, Lily noted. Somewhere in the background a group of giggling girls were singing old camp fire songs she'd known back when her mother had her doing Girl Scouts.

_Now Captain Jack (Now Captain Jack)_

_And his loyal crew (Had a mighty fine crew)_

_They sailed across (They sailed across)_

_The channel too (The channel too…_

"So how's the pho-tog, Lils?" Harvey interrupted the old song, loving to annoy her with cut-up versions of words.

"Well, I guess," she shrugged, holding her hands out towards the fire to warm up a bit. Her thin paisley pajama pants and navy sweater were proving not to be as warm as she might have hoped. Oliver set a hand on her leg to stop her shivering, but with a glare from Lily, he let go. "I've gotten pretty far on my portfolio. A few more pages wouldn't hurt, but I don't have quite the pictures I'm looking for yet," she responded, looking away from her just-assaulted thigh..

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, suddenly compassionate-feeling despite his uncomfortable seat.

"I've got a lot of in-school modern stuff that's pretty neat, al lines and angles and stuff, but I don't have any of that natural wonder goodness. You know, the big tree alone on the hill type stuff," she told them animatedly.

"No, not really," Harvey said matter-of-factly.

"Oh don't be a jerk," Maya slapped his shoulder good-naturedly. "Besides," she shot him a questioning glance, rearranging herself a bit so she wasn't facing the fire as much; it was warm, but along with that, it was extremely bright, "What have you done with your life recently?"

Harvey shot her a nasty glare, "I'll tell you what I haven't been doing," he raised one eyebrow in accusation, "I haven't been hanging around three different guys at once."

"Darn," Maya laughed sarcastically, "Didn't realize you weren't getting any action."

"Harvey!" Mike jumped in brightly, "You're gay?"

This earned a strong laugh from everyone in their circle. Even Oliver, who had spent the better part of the evening staring down at his feet in contemplation, gave a low chuckle. So low, in fact, that Lily swore she could feel it vibrate through her body. He stood suddenly, smiling briefly at her, and walking around the corner of the fire.

Mike threw everyone a questioning glance, "That boy's been so out of it lately."

"Speaking of out of it," Maya piped in happily, glad the conversation was no longer about what she'd been doing with some other senior boys, "Lily, what was up with you this afternoon?"

Lily groaned, suddenly fascinated with the bright pattern on her pajama pants, hoping to hide the pink flush that warmed her cheeks. "It was uh, nothing," she tried unconvincingly, earning suspicious glared from most of her friends, Maya in particular. "Oh come on, guys, don't you ever daydream?" She rolled her eyes and ran her flip-flopped feet through the woodchips, waiting for someone to change the subject. When it didn't, she made it happen.

"Those ropes courses sure make you sore," she told them, stretching each of her arms, "and these logs sure aren't helping," she laughed a little, leaning backwards to stretch out her spine, but clearly, she had poor timing, as her body collided anything but gracefully with a shadow of Oliver, stumbling back through the dark to the group.

Unfortunately, something hot dropped from his unprepared hands.

"Ouch!" Lily hissed, jumping from her seat to confront Oliver in apology, when she realized what were all over her arm were scalding strings of sticky marshmallow.

"Lily!" Oliver protested, grabbing her by the hips and turning her to face him, "You wrecked my s'more!" The mock drama amused Lily, who held her arm out for comparison.

"You wrecked my skin," she teased, and he took her arm in his hand, turning it once over in each direction to assess the damage.

"Looks pretty bad," he told her very professionally. "Follow me, Miss. We'll have that cleaned up for you in minutes." He moved away, motioning for her to follow, and turned his head once over his shoulder to give her a sly grin. She had no choice but to follow.

He took her hand and lead her smartly to the water buckets the teachers had lined up around the log circles to put the fire out later that night, or in case anything were to happen before then. He took the bottom hem of his long-sleeved T-shirt and dipped it carelessly into one of the more full buckets, then brought it up to Lily's arm, beginning to work at the drying white mess.

"Oliver," she giggled at the contact, "You don't have to do that."

"Lily," he told her affectionately, "I made a mess of you. Now I have to clean you up," and proceeded to wipe at her arm in short quick strokes.

Something caught her eye as he worked. The firelight flickered very flatteringly across the taught skin of his stomach, which Lily saw easily beneath Oliver's lifted shirt. Feeling the need to stare (and cursing herself as she did), she closed her eyes, focusing instead on the rough feeling pushing back and forth across her arm. That, of course, didn't help her as Oliver let his strong hand grasp her arm, and, when he'd finally reached high enough on her arm that it began to tickle, pulled away and kissed the tender spot on the inside of her elbow.

She opened only one eye to peer at him. "Finished?" She asked tentatively.

Lily wasn't sure if the fire she saw was just a reflection in his eyes or if something really burned inside of him, but there was something about him staring up at her that sent shivers down her spine, and goose bumps erupted the arm Oliver still held. Then again, it was pretty cold out.

He took notice, too, smiling not so to himself. With a dripping passion she couldn't tell if he faked, Oliver told her "Meet me tonight at the bridge after everyone's gone to sleep." For a moment, Lily looked shocked, but he jumped quickly in again. "I never see you anymore, Lily. We should catch up." He dropped her arm, stood straight, and nearly ran back to the fire pit where their friends still sat unsuspectingly.

Lily, not to anyone in particular, nodded, telling herself contrarily on the inside, _'Oh God, Lily. You can't._

**A/N: And so ends Chapter Five. Thoughts? Do you have questions, comments, or concerns…in which case a review would be in order. I promise you you'll have fun with Chapter Six. I know writing it will be quite enjoyable, so pay attention. Also, if you're into Harry Potter (which you all should be), I've just put up an artsy oneshot to the beat of a great song. It's not a songfic, don't worry, just kind of song-ish. Check it out though if you're into that. Otherwise, thanks for reading, please review, and Oh my goodness I'm tired. And Church's in the morning. My-oh-my. Goodnight.**


	6. October Nights

**A/N: Chapter six. This is a chapter you'll either love or hate. Gear up, it's going to be a hormonal ride. **

**Disclaimer: I'm asked this a lot, so I'd just like to clear one thing up. I do not, as a matter of fact, own Hannah Montana. Surprised?**

**Chapter 6: October Nights**

Long after she heard snores coming from Maya's sleeping bag, Lily Truscott was having a mental battle with herself, unsure of whether to meet Oliver out on the bridge or fake sleep for the rest of the night. _'Calm down, Lily. It's not like anything's going to happen. You two are just friends. He realizes that. Why can't you?'_ She squirmed a bit in her own bag, pulling farther out the top. _'He just wants to talk.'_

The zipper was down, she was up, and flip-flops were on her feet in an instant. She shivered in only her T-shirt and pajama pants, looking back to grab her sweater, and realizing Maya had happily scooted herself atop it in her sleep. She decided it was best to spare waking up her friend, and left it.

_'Damn wind,'_ Lily thought as she stepped precariously through the open pavilion, over a number of the fifty-four seniors girls sleeping around her. She prayed she wouldn't step on one before reaching the end of them.

"Miss Truscott," she heard called from before her. She turned a bit and saw it was Mrs. Yates, nearly asleep herself, guarding her exit, "Where are you going?" She yawned through her words, not even opening her eyes.

"Bathroom, Mrs. Yates," she said simply, looking at her pleadingly for sympathy.

The English teacher nodded, and Lily galloped to the little covered house attached to the pavilion where she swung open the heavy brown door labeled "Ladies". It was apparent that the heat in the bathroom was turned almost unbearably high, probably to offer relief from the chilly weather outside, as soon as she'd entered. Lily pulled a tube of mascara from her pocket, ashamed she'd even thought to bring it, and took a moment in the mirror to coat her lashes evenly. Not wanting Oliver to know she'd done it (and wishing herself she weren't so vain), she placed it against the back of the sink to be retrieved on her way back.

Looking again to the mirror, she flipped her head upside down and shook, turned herself upright again, and ran her fingers quickly through her hair. Her heart was pounding. She was sneaking out, and the consequences weren't only her mother's this time.

She breathed deeply, watching her reflection once, twice, a third time. Then she moved quickly to the little window at the end of the stalls. It was high up and narrow, filled with etched glass so no one could see in, and after a bit of fumbling, it was also opened and filled with a skinny girl pulling her way through.

When she'd gotten herself halfway through, she stopped to catch her breath, feeling the thin sill cutting into her stomach just above her hipbones. She peered out, wondering briefly how she'd get down once she got out. Barely able, she rolled herself to face upward while still inside the window, grabbing at the edge of the roof for support, and pulling her feet the rest of the way out until she could just stand on the outside of the sill. Then, with the fleeting thought of how she might get back up, she jumped.

And after the jump, she ran. Straight into the woods by the wide woodchipped trail dug out for park-goers' convenience. Under the bright stars and moon she found her way in, and was thankful that it was late enough in the year for at least a few leaves to have fallen, leaving little cracks for light to dance in under the cover of the trees once she was there.

The path wasn't very long, and after she'd passed one ropes course and it had caught up to follow the stream it eventually crossed, she saw a tiny light. She stepped closer cautiously, but knew what the yellow glow was as it brightened the outline of a shadowed figure.

When she saw him, she relaxed instantly, remembering again that she was just coming out to talk to her best friend. She was acutely aware of the crunching leaves beneath her feet and the wind that whispered through the branches, rustling them mysteriously. She stepped closer, and Oliver's shape became more clear. The familiarity was comforting.

"Hey there," he called quietly when she was still a few strides away. "I knew you'd come."

Reaching him, she smiled, sliding herself down against the wooden railing of the wide bridge. "Of course I came. I miss hanging out with you," she whispered to him, snuggling close to warm her chilled skin.

"You're freezing, Lily. Where the hell is your sweater?" he asked her accusingly, letting the volume of his voice rise just a bit.

"Shhh," she quieted him, leaning in close to say "Maya rolled on top of it, and I didn't want to wake anyone up."

He nodded approvingly, then pulled his hands from the front pocket of his sweatshirt. As he did, Lily realized that he was still dressed in his dark jeans. "Didn't you go to bed?" she asked curiously.

"Sort of," he said plainly, disregarding her question and held his hands out to her. "I brought us Swedish Fish." He grinned brightly, holding them under the glow of the pocket-sized flashlight he'd laid in the crack between two of the wooden boards.

"Aw, Oliver," she cooed, "Swedish Fish are my favorite, thanks!" She gladly took the rectangular bag and ripped off the corner, sliding the discarded plastic into her pajama pants pocket. She held the bag at an angle and let a few fall into her anxious hands. "Are you trying to bribe me?" She questioned him suspiciously.

"No, Lils," he laughed, but she wasn't convinced.

"Then why'd you ask me to come out her tonight?" She chewed graciously between words, glad Oliver had thought to find a package of Swedish Fish with only the red gummies. They were the only good ones, anyway.

"I just wanted to talk, Lily," he reassured her, pulling his legs up near his chest.

"Okay," she bought it, and continued snacking lightly, using her tongue skillfully to remove the sticky residue from her back molars. A thought came to mind that she couldn't resist mentioning. "Remember the bridge in back of your old house, Oliver? You know, the house in Chesterfield?"

He tilted his head back, wrinkling his brow a bit, "Yeah, actually," he looked back at her. "The one we used to go out to on Sunday afternoons after my family got back from Church."

"Mmhm," she nodded to him.

"You know I almost got my mom in an accident one day, pressuring her to get home before you left. It had been donut and coffee Sunday, so we stayed later, but I was afraid you'd think I'd forgotten and would go home."

Lily grinned silently, recalling. "I can't believe you thought I'd leave. I was so set on catching those tadpoles in the creek that I would have stayed there for hours even if you never showed up. I loved doing that. Then you moved. Closer to me, granted, but away from the creek."

He laughed, "Yeah, and you never forgave me, because you never got to go back and catch the one named Greg that was 'almost nearly a toad already' before we moved." He glanced over at her, all of his teeth exposed in the memory. "Lily, for Pete's sake, you're shivering."

"I'm fine, Oliver," she rolled her eyes, hurt that he'd killed the nostalgic mood.

"No really, Lily. Come here," he commanded, holding out his arms and shifting a bit to accommodate.

"Not a chance. I can take care of myself," she shot back proudly.

He raised one eyebrow and glared. For fear of her life, Lily submitted. Oliver wasted no time pulled her tight against him. He was still seated, leaned up against the railing with his knees up in the air, but he had his legs spread apart, and she sat with her back to him between them. Self-consciously she moved her head to the side a bit so she wouldn't give him a mouthful of her hair, and she too pulled her knees to her chest. She let him grasp her hands and wrap both of their arms around her, cocooning her in an admittedly much warmer embrace.

_'Great,'_ she thought to herself, settling back into him, _'Just what I need. An excuse to be unbearably close to Oliver and the muscles that he just decided o grow overnight – again.'_ She sighed, wishing simultaneously to be both out of his grasp and closer to him.

"I can't believe how blonde your hair still is," he laughed at her, rubbing his nose on the back of her scalp and fingering the long straight strands, then letting his head fall back to where it had been.

"Don't make fun of my hair," she laughed. "Maybe I'm part albino or afflicted with some mutant disease."

"No," his breath was hot on her neck. "I think you're just lucky."

She grinned to herself, not wanting him to know how happy it made her to be wrapped up there with him. "Wanna know what's weird?" she asked playfully.

"What?" he whispered into her ear, taking one hand and running _very_ slowly up her arm, making her shiver. "Still cold?" he asked before she could respond.

"Uh.." she stammered as the hand moved back down, "I…" Both palms trailed upward this time, leaving a trail of fire on her arm. They pushed under the sleeves of her T-shirt, resting their fingertips lightly on the skin of her shoulder blades. "I…Oliver…" she breathed.

"What?" Was that a seductive tone from his voice? Lily tried to ignore it.

"Oliver, what are you doing?" she finally managed to spit out, spinning to face him, but stopped by his arms.

"Don't turn around," he almost yelled, tensing.

"What?" She giggled, no longer as distracted, but curious instead.

"Don't." His voice was low and ragged.

"Why not, Oliver?" she grinned mischievously, turning just a little farther.

"Lily, my will power is not that fantastic." He bent his face unbearable close to the side of hers, pushing away her hair and speaking clearly into one ear. "If you turn around now, I think I'm going to lose it."

Some kind of realization hit Lily hard in the chest, or the stomach, or – she couldn't even tell anymore, but she understood. And, for some reason she still couldn't explain, she turned to face him, grinning a sultry smile right at him, tilting her head down and looking up at him through the tops of her eyes, pouting her lip just slightly as best she knew how.

She couldn't read the expression on his face; it wasn't one she'd seen before, but it certainly wasn't surprised. He met her upward gaze. "Lily Truscott, I think I'm going to kiss you." He leaned his head in a little closer, letting her study the intensity and want in his chocolate eyes.

She thought she'd be paralyzed with the way he looked at her, like he wanted nothing more than to steal her, but she nodded just slightly, biting her lower lip before that too from her was stolen.

He moved his lips flawlessly, a skill Lily didn't care to know where he'd learned, sucking lightly at all the right moments, and she let him do it. She wanted him to. Lily found her knees still positioned against her chest, now sandwiched awkwardly between his as well, so she adjusted, pulling each over the legs that encased her, wrapping them Indian-style around his back. His hands found there way onto her back, supporting her steadily and he kissed down her neck, making her throw back her head and lean into those hands with passion. His kisses were feather-light, gentle against each collarbone; it made Lily wish he'd go lower, harder. She'd never felt so dirty in her life, but she couldn't pull herself away.

But instead of intensifying, he did something much different, much sexier. He turned their bodies together so he was no longer leaning against the railing, and instead leaned backwards until he was lying down completely on the bridge's floor. He lowered her slowly, almost as if she were flying, until she was completely straddling him, on top, she realized.

He took one hand and held back her hair as she continued the heated kissing, wishing he'd worn less clothing so she wouldn't have to do so much work to reach his bare chest. But she lost her train of that thought when he pulled a nasty trick with his tongue, leaving her moaning his name. A new idea came to mind, and she found her hand reaching boldly for his belt buckle, which, as it happened, was not as hard to undo as she imagined.

"Lily," Oliver grunted, and she took it encouragingly, pulling the leather strap from the metal loop.

"Lily," his broken voice pleaded, pushing her lightly upwards. She broke away and looked at him, confused.

"Stop." There was no mishearing it. She couldn't believe he'd say that.

"I thought—" she started, but he held a finger to her lips, silencing her and pulling them both up to their previous sitting position.

"You don't want it," he told her. That struck her, leaning back a little farther and feeling again the cold air that marked October nights.

"Yes I do, Oliver." She protested, reaching again for the hemline of his jeans, but he pushed her away.

"You don't want it to happen like this." He looked her straight in the eye, but what she saw wasn't the lust of before. It was commanding, almost fatherly, and it made her sick.

"Don't you," she paused, ashamed of what she was going to say, so she whispered, "Don't you want me?"

He let out a long deep breath. "Lily, I've wanted you more than anything for years. God, there isn't a moment I'm not thinking about how much I'd like to—" but he stopped, much to her chagrin. "Yes, Lily, I want you more than you could ever know, but this is not the time or the place. Nothing's right, and you don't want to remember that kind of thing like this."

"I – I –" she stammered, her eyes getting wet in the corners as she tried to accept the rejection she'd just received, but realizing that he was completely right. How did she wind up being the guy in this situation? He asks her to wait for the special moment, and she tells him to drop his pants? Something wasn't right.

"Besides," he said, very slowly, pulling farther away from her and reaching for his flashlight, as if he didn't want to be facing her when he reminded her, "I don't think Will would be very happy about that."

Oh God. Oh God. She couldn't think straight, couldn't believe it. How did she – How could she – She forgot about her own stupid boyfriend just because Oliver seduced her into it. "Oliver, I—" but she didn't continue. She just sobbed.

Her hands were on her face was in her knees were pressed to her chest. She couldn't control her violent tears and sharp breathing. Oliver had his arms around her in moments, but she pushed him off. She wished he'd leave. "I cheated, Oliver," she managed to shout and whisper simultaneously.

"Lily," he started, knowing it was true but not wanting her to have to admit to anything like that, "Lily, it's my fault."

"Oh it is not," she sobbed, and he shushed her. "I was undoing your belt, for Pete's sake. I was _very_ aware of what I was doing."

They sat there for an immeasurable amount of time, just staring, Oliver giving Lily a pleading look, and Lily trying in vain to wipe the hot tears from her cheeks. After several minutes of this, Oliver whispered, "I'm won't tell a soul."

Lily's heart warmed, if just slightly, at this, but she frowned nonetheless. "It doesn't make a difference. I still did it," she started to compose herself, "But thanks."

He nodded, offering her his hand, which she took gladly and stood as it pulled her up. He wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and began walking back towards the pavilion.

When they reached the edge of the woods, he turned off his pocket light and held her a little closer, walking lightly so as not to wake anyone, and returned her to the back side of the girls' bathroom.

"Lily," he leaned her against the stone wall, finding her eyes for the umpteenth time that night, "I'm going to tell you to forget it happened, because I don't want you to ever have to worry about this again. I'm going to tell you to go back to Will and be happy and we will just be friends. But I want you to know, because I think you have the right to, that I am completely, unfathomably, unreasonable, irreversibly in love with you."

She just stared back at him and nodded, not knowing what she should say, so she just didn't. Finally he let go of her, turning and walking back to wherever he'd come form earlier that night.

Lily helped herself through the window, out the bathroom door, behind which her mascara still lay, and silently back to her sleeping bag. She couldn't sleep though. Instead, she spent the remainder of the night either trying to leave behind what had happened between them on the bridge, or letting it flood her thoughts mercilessly, and trying desperately to forget Will.

Xxx…xxX

In the morning, breakfast was cold and clouds plagued the sky. It was still chilly, and Lily shivered while letting Maya lead her onto the bus. Not once did Oliver come to mind, and the entire ride home neither of them spoke a word.

**A/N: Well, that certainly was eventful. Coming up in Chapter Seven: Lily's lost for answers, and has a big decision to make. What does she do? Avoid it, of course. Hope you enjoyed it, and please review!**


	7. Not at All Fair

**A/N: Sorry, dear readers, for the wait. It's easy to get caught up in the business of preparing for parties during the holidays. Also, it was kind of hard for me to write this chapter. Yes, of course it's going to be sad. A lot to give up, right? So it wasn't exactly something I was eager to get into. I very much put it off. But here it is now, Chapter Seven. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If it was Christmastime and I owned anything Hannah Montana related, do you really think I'd have the time to be writing fanfiction?**

**Chapter 7: Not at All Fair**

Lily dialed tentatively, not really caring to hold the conversation she imagined she was about to, but feeling it was fairly necessary. She held her breath, pausing, then gently tapping the last digit, closing her eyes and turning away so she wouldn't have to look. She held the phone to her ear and lay back on her bed regretfully. _'Why do you do this to yourself, Lily?'_

_Ring_

God, what made her think this call was going to solve things? _'Hang up! Hang up, Lily!'_

_Ring_

_'Don't be stupid. It's not like he's not going to know. It's been two days.'_ Two weekend days where Will had miraculously still been in Lake Placid. Thank goodness his sister made the next round. She hadn't had to face him yet, but he'd be back later that afternoon, and she'd be there to welcome him home, of course.

_Ring_

Right, phone call. Focus.

"Lily?" The voice was deep, almost groggy sounding.

"Hey Mike," she exhaled. Bad Idea. Bad Idea. "Sorry, did I wake you?" she thought to throw in as a polite afterthought.

There was a pause. "Actually," Lily distinctly heard a yawn from the other side of the phone, followed by shifting springs, "yeah."

"I'm so sorry!" She had both hands on the phone now, anxious. "I'll just call back later."

"No, no." His words were reassuring, comforting. "Lily, you almost never call. And it was just a Sunday afternoon nap. I promise whatever you have to say is going to be more important."

Se groaned internally. "You mean you can't guess what I'm calling about?"

"What?"

Huh? He was Oliver's best friend. They'd pretty seriously messed up. He must know. "Didn't Oliver tell you anything about Senior Retreat?"

An extensive void of uncomfortable silence followed. Or maybe that's just what it felt like to a nervous Lily. "Uhm…" She took a breath. Then another. "Are you talking about the chicken and rice?"

"No, Mike," she almost laughed, but couldn't seem to muster it.

"Then no. Oliver didn't tell me anything."

Something inside her warmed just a bit; the boy was true to his word. "Well, can you promise that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to say?"

"Absolutely," his words came quickly.

"Really, Mike," her eyes closed again, scrunching tight.

"Really, Lily."

She waited for a sign, a beat, or something that would signal her that this was the moment to begin, but nothing seemed to fit, so she sucked in her pride and spoke. "Long story short, I think I might like Oliver."

Mike inhaled sharply. It was such that she could hear it through the earpiece of her phone. "Why are you calling me about this?" But it wasn't an accusation.

Lily hadn't given it much thought. She just knew she needed to talk to someone, and Mike seemed her best option. "I dunno," she mumbled, "Maya would get to gushy and unrealistic with me, plus, you're Oliver's best friend, and a guy. I thought maybe you'd have some deep insights for me or something."

Lily felt him nod through the phone, but he was quiet for a moment. "Well I sure bet Oliver's happy. Boy's crazy for you."

Well, that was decidedly unhelpful. It, in fact, got her nowhere. Lily felt her palms swell pink with warmth and moisture. _'My hands don't sweat,'_ she thought indignantly, switching the hand holding the phone so that she might wipe off its clammy partner. "Mike, I'm dating Will."

"I know. I understand, Lily. Are you asking me for advice?"

She considered it a moment. "I guess so, yeah."

"So you're asking me if you should date Will or Oliver?"

She sighed. "Yes." It was almost a whisper.

"Simple. Pick the one you like better."

"Mike," the laugh tempted her again, "Not so simple: Deciding which I like better." She added as an afterthought, "I wish I didn't have to decide. I wish I could have them both."

"Don't we all," he sighed wistfully. "But Lils, you know that wouldn't be fair to either one of them."

"I know." She let her loose fingers run over her cheek where Will held her face when they kissed, then lightly down her sides like Oliver'd done a few nights before. _'Stop, Lily,' _she commanded herself.

"Do you dream about either of them?" He asked, clearly curious.

Lily blushed, not really desiring to discuss her romantic dreams with the best friend of a very possible subject of them. "Well, I've dreamt about Will for a while now, but I mean, we were dating, and," she swallowed, "I only _just_ realized I like Oliver. I've hardly had the chance to dream about him."

"Okay," he took it acceptingly. "Well if you only just decided you liked Oliver, why are you going to throw it all away for him? You've wanted Will for forever."

He was testing her, damnit. And she hated most that he knew exactly what she was going to say before every answer. "You know why, Mike. I just got this feeling that maybe that might be right."

"But you might stop liking Oliver tomorrow. Those things come and go pretty fast."

"Not this time, Mike. I really don't think it's going to pass." _'There goes my pride.'_

"How do you know?" His words came at her quickly. Was he reading from a book, or was this just something he did a lot?

"Well," she dug deeply into the creases of her mind to find a reason that didn't include a detailed description of their shared evening, but to no avail. "It was just something about…" Stalling. Real creative, Lily. "Uhm, it was something in the way he, he…" She swallowed hard. "I felt it when he kissed me."

She waited for the gasp, but it didn't come. Just knowing consideration. "He kissed you at Senior Retreat?"

"Well, I mean, he kissed me, I kissed him. It's hard to remember who exactly was doing what." Words came out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them, all slurred together.

"Gods, Lil. Pretty intense, then?"

She gave an unrecognizable but affirmative sound that came out something more like a nervous squeak. A change of pace, she spoke slowly, deliberately. "I just felt like if I let go I'd be wasting time."

"That's all you wanted to do," he sighed, "I know the feeling.

"Mmhm." How had she confessed this much to him? Having a gossip fest with Oliver's best friend what not exactly how she wanted to spend her afternoon. She wanted an answer.

"Lily," he very frankly stated, "stop avoiding the question."

"What?" had spilled from her mouth before she'd realized. "I thought you—"

"No, Lily," he interrupted her, almost condescendingly, but she was thankful, somewhere not so deep inside her, that he'd caught on. "You want me to tell you to forget about Will and get things started with Oliver.

"No," she said, nodding, but he talked right past her, knowing exactly what she meant.

"You can't do that, Lily."

Her eyes shut tightly and she slid lower on her pillows. Exactly what she was afraid of hearing.

"You made a commitment to this guy, and he's gunna take that seriously. Will Giordano is no flake." She nodded along with him, sighing internally. "If you're going to go for Oliver, you can't just forget about boyfriend number one. You've got to let him down properly, and you've got to deal with all the consequences."

"I don't want to let him go," she sniffed, but definitely would _not_ cry over this. Lily Truscott did not cry over boys.

"Then don't, but forget about being anything better than friends with Oliver," his words were harsh but necessary. Lily tilted her face upward so gravity couldn't trick the salty drops to fall from her eyes.

"I can't do that."

"Well pick one. The one you don't want to, or the one you can't. But you'd better hurry up, or someone's going to get hurt."

"I'm crushed."

"Well, Lily, what fun would love be if you didn't have the painful moments to remind you how special it is?"

"Thanks, Mike," she recognized the end of the conversation and hung up. The phone landed somewhere beside her when she curled up, letting confused tears run sideways over the bridge of her nose and down the other cheek, thinking a nap was not such a bad idea.

Xxx..xxX

She noticed him get off the plane before anyone else. The dark wash jeans, the blazer, the way he walked; Lily simply couldn't ignore it. No, in fact, she was completely mesmerized by it. And he saw her before anyone else, just to make it worse. His eyes caught hers, and his face, quite literally, lit up. The brightness seared Lily somewhere on the inside. _'Will, you're not making this any easier.'_

He adjusted the backpack slung across his shoulder and picked up his speed a bit, wanting to reach her faster. "Lily," he dropped the bag and raised a gentle hand to her cheek. She grinned and nodded, so he bent in to kiss her lips lightly, then pulled her gracefully into a tight hug. Why did it have to feel so good? Why couldn't she have realized it wasn't going to work and just let him go like that? Why did she have to want them both so badly?

_'Selfish. You're so selfish, Lily,"_ she antagonized herself while still wrapped warmly in his arms. _'You worked so hard for this boy, and now you're just going to send him packing because you think Oliver will bring anything better? He's been dealing with being alone for forever. You can't just give up what's good anytime something new tempts you.'_

Lengthy inner monologue aside, she let go and looked up to him. His grin overpowered his face, and she couldn't help but reply just the same. "I was thinking we could go get lunch," she told him pleadingly.

He nodded, "Just a second." He turned back to meet his parents who were taking a while longer to get there things off the plane. A few words were exchanged, nods, questions. Then he smiled and returned to Lily. "You've got a car?"

"Of course," she said, looking past him to spot Greta holding tightly to her mother's arm, still shy despite her age. _'Sweet,'_ Lily thought. She felt Will take her hand and readjust so their fingers were intertwined. As he pulled her away towards the baggage claim, she turned to smile back at Greta, mouthing a faint "Congratulations" as they went.

Xxx…xxX

As much as it pained her to say it, there was something undeniably sexy about beautiful Will Giordano driving. And driving her car, to add to the appeal. His arms so strong, but his body was so relaxed, while his attention was focused ahead with a passion. The control he over her machine was an overwhelming turn on. Then he swung one arm around the back of her chair. _'Dirty thoughts, Lily,'_ she thought, checking herself and remembering the reason they were going out to lunch. Something inside of her tightened.

He, as always, opened the door for her after pulling into the parking lot of a local diner. When she'd gotten out, he placed his hand again where it fit so well, firmly on the small of her back, and lead her chivalrously inside. Four o'clock was hardly prime dining time, so they were seated quickly, and within the first few minutes, they'd each contently ordered a cheeseburger and just water, please.

"So tell me about Greta," Lily tossed in, trying to seem caught up in the conversation as a disguise for her distraction.

Will grinned broadly, clearly proud. "She took sixth place. I can't believe it," he seemed genuinely enthralled with the success of his little sister. "It's higher than she's ever placed. Oh, Lily, you should have seen the turn she landed at the end. She'd been so worried about it, too."

The corner of her mouth curled up lightly, amused at the joy he took in it all. "It's so great that your whole family gets into it the way they do." She took a sip from the glass of water before her. "It must be really encouraging for her to have all the support."

"Yeah," he said simply, "Plus it's kind of cool to see all these different places, meet the new people. While she's busy skating, my family and I do a lot of exploring."

Lily smiled, absent-mindedly picking at the ice in her glass with the end of the plastic straw. Classy.

"Here are your cheeseburgers," a sweet voice Lily had forgotten would return piped up from beside her, and a warm plate was slid in front of her. The meal didn't even look appetizing to her. She wasn't sure she could stomach it at the moment. Will looked up graciously at the waitress, nodding their thanks, then returned eagerly to his burger and immediately took a few bites. Lily picked only at the french fries on the side.

"Not hungry?" he asked her after a minute or two of silence.

She looked up at him curiously, giving him a very matter-of-fact sideways "grin". "Not really," she admitted, biting the end off of one of her fries.

"Is something wrong?" His words were honest, curious, concerned. She wished she didn't have to do this to him. She wished he hadn't have asked.

"Uhm," she began shortly, unsure of how to get into it. "Yeah, sort of." She refused to meet his gaze.

"Aw, Lily, I'm sorry. You're having a problem and I just leave for the weekend. I should have realized—"

"No, no," she cut him off, shaking her head subtly. "It's not like that."

A silence ensued that Lily found incredibly uncomfortable. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Will set down his cheeseburger and wipe his hands on his napkin. He scooted his chair just a little closer, leaning in. "Lily, do you want to talk about it?" His eyes pleaded with her, all wide and bright green. How could she resist?

She met his gaze briefly, reluctantly. "Not really," she near-whispered, "But I suppose I really need to tell you something."

Lily watched every possible bad situation flash before Will's eyes; he looked like he might start sweating from nerves. "Lily, are you okay?" he put in before she could say anymore.

_'Always concerned for me. Why are you doing this to him, Lily?' _"In the way you're thinking, yes, Will, I'm fine. Please don't worry about me, though," she submitted herself to looking at him, knowing it would only add to the guilt if she spent her time watching her plate. "But uhm," she paused, not sure of how she wanted to bring it up. "Please don't feel bad about getting mad at me," she pleaded.

"Please tell me, Lily," he offered her a hand to hold across the table, and she took it thankfully.

She let the words come softly and slowly from her lips in honest sadness. "I can't be your girlfriend anymore, Will." She watched his face change almost to relief, but there was a flash of painful acceptance that lingered as well.

"Lily," he breathed.

"I'm so sorry, Will." Her words were choked.

"No. Lily, I'm glad; well almost. You had me worried. I thought you were going to tell me something bad was happening to you." He stopped just long enough for a terror to take his face. "It's not that, is it?"

"No, it's not that," she grinned faintly, warmed by his concern.

"Is it something I did?" He guessed, already armed to apologize.

"Will," she smiled genuinely, "It's nothing you did. You've been better to me than I could have hoped. And I hate telling you that I've got to do this, and it's not at all fair to you; you've been perfect. But I just feel like I have to, as selfish as that is."

"Lily, you're not selfish," he tried to reassure her. "But please tell me, what is it?"

She almost couldn't bear to say it. She was absolutely mortified at her actions. She was just like a little girl, tempted by all that was advertised to her. She let go of her inhibitions and spoke. "It's someone else."

She listened in the silence to Will take a long, deep breath, then speak. "Another guy, you mean?"

"Yes," she choked on her near-silent words. "I just, I _just_ realized that I might really like him, too. And something tells me I'm not going to be able to let him go if I'm dating you. And it's not fair to you that you can't have all the attention of the girl you're with, and—"

He cut off her rambling. "It's okay Lily. I, well I sort of understand. He waited, and an order bell dinged somewhere nearby. "Can I ask you who it is?"

Lily knew she must look like she were about to cry. But it was just honest anguish that plastered itself across her expression. "He's my best friend," she admitted.

"Oh," the realization hit him, "Oliver?" He sounded deeply jealous.

"Yeah," she spoke softly. "I know you don't deserve this. Neither of you deserve this, but I just couldn't have both of you, so I had to make a decision. Oh, Will, you have every right to be furious with me for dropping you like this."

"Lily, please," he smiled, "I'm not at all furious with you. I get it. I'm, well, I'm upset. I'm sad, and I'm reluctant to let you go, but it's just not my decision to make."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled tightly. "I'm so sorry."

"I think, I think I'm gunna go." He set his two hands firmly on the table, pushing himself up until he was standing straight, then reached into his pocket. He fumbled a bit before pulling out a twenty and tossing it on the table next to her. "Here," he said lightly, "for the bill."

She nodded sadly, "Are you sure you don't want a ride?" she asked as an afterthought, concerned for him walking home in the cold wind.

"No." His words were quick, almost harsh. "Sorry," he let out a strained laugh, "But no. I think it would be better if I just walked." He turned away and stepped plainly to the door, grasping the handle and pulling heavily. He let it fall back against his open palm, turning finally to catch her glance. "Lily," and his next words broke her. "You look beautiful today."

**A/N:** **Aww. I hated writing this. I just feel so bad for Will. He's not completely out of the picture yet, though. I'm not sure this is exactly my best work, so feed back is very much appreciated. Other than that, stay tuned for Chapter Eight. I hope to get very close to the end before school starts again on Monday, or else I feel like I'll never get around to it. Writing takes a darned long time. Well, on that note, HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY! (And please review) =D**


	8. Pulling Away

**A/N: No more Will in the way, so Lily can just head on back to Oliver, right? That would be way too easy. I had fun writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it. The Lily-Oliver interaction is just a lot of fun. Anyway, here's Chapter Eight. Sorry for the wait, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: In this country, they don't trust sixteen-year-old girls to drive cars safely. Do you really think they trust us to own television series?**

**Chapter 8: Pulling Away**

Lily had happily spent the better portion of her day out on the grounds photographing. It was Friday, so she didn't have one of her classes, and that in addition to her study hall, as well as the actual photography class, gave her plenty of time to try capturing a few nature shots for her portfolio. Something was missing though, she knew. It was that one picture of something unusual caught from an angle only she could get. Something that would make college admission officers glance once at her portfolio and gasp.

She slung her camera carefully over her shoulder before continuing to sift through the contents of her locker, picking what books she's need to bring home for her weekend homework, checking the stack she'd made on the floor against the assignments in her planner. The camera, not so well-balanced, slipped down her shoulder each time she moved, so she turned to slide it off her arm and set it on the ground, but when she did so, she came face-to-knees with someone she hadn't seen in a number of days.

"Hey Oliver," she laughed, standing to make her eyes level with, well, his mouth. He was a good deal taller than she was.

"Hey Lily," he smiled apologetically at her. It wasn't like they hadn't talked since that night on the bridge, but their words were few, and _it_ hadn't seemed to make it's way into conversation yet.

He nodded down to her camera, now seated atop her books. "Get some good pictures today?"

She smiled at his attempt at small talk. "Yeah," she ran her fingers through the long side bangs cut into one side of her hair, pulling them out of her face. "But I'm missing one, still."

"The big one?" He asked knowingly.

"Of course," she said, turning back to her books. "Listen, Oliver," she called to him from inside the green metal locker, "It's Friday, and my parents are working late as usual." She pulled her head back out once she'd retrieved the final notebook. "Do you want to come hang out at my house?" She pushed the locker door shut.

He grinned through one side of his mouth. "Sure thing, Lils," he said. "Let me just drop a few things off at home and clean up a little first."

"Four o'clock?" She asked, bending down to stuff the books into her blue messenger bag.

"I'll be there," he told her, and walked back to his locker.

Xxx…xxX

After walking around the corner to her street, Lily, in her usual routine, made sure to check out the lawn decorations in every yard. The snow hadn't fallen yet, but it would only be a week or two more before it happened, which meant that Christmas lights and obnoxious blow-up globes and figures that were synonymous with big-city-suburbs were not far away. _'Can't wait,'_ she told herself sarcastically.

Her lawn was empty. No lights until after Thanksgiving, she'd told her father, and so it became law. And even then, it was only classy strings of white lights that were allowed to line the roof and doorway. If he wanted to do the trees, he had to do the _whole_ tree and do it right. Lily would not stand for any of this hap-hazard throwing of the blinking multicolored variety into a bush and calling it "decorated". That would just be an embarrassment.

She stepped casually up the front steps, shivering a bit. Yes, she was always cold. She wondered briefly if she should listen to her mother more often and put on that extra sweater or bring along the scarf.

A twist of a key and a shove of an old doorknob opened the blue-painted front door of her house, and she drew into the warmth happily. She slid off her flats, wishing she'd warn shoes that allowed for socks, and slipped the plaid peacoat off her shoulders, setting on the hook beside the door. She, after all this, still managed to hold on to her camera, so she shifted positions with the intention of setting it on the little side table next to the front door, but that space was already occupied.

Lily scrunched her face up, confused. Who would leave such an unusual gift there? Now burning with curiosity, Lily all but ran to the kitchen to set the camera down on the camera so she'd have hands with which to inspect the oddity, then sprinted back.

Three separate pieces greeted her wondering eyes: A red long-stemmed rose, a little gift box wrapped in ivory paper with a little blue bow, and a note tucked beneath the two. There was no doubt it was for her, as written in a lovely cursive scrawl on the front of the note was her name.

Not being able to control herself, she snatched up the note in one hand, less anxiously pulling the rose and delicate box under her other arm, and made her way to her favorite chair in the living room. She set down items two and three and turned her attention to the first. She unfolded it slowly, afraid of what it might say, and glanced down with a hopefully open mind. The little cursive letters were the same as what had adorned the front.

_Lily,_

_Thank you for a fantastic three weeks. I hope you enjoyed them as much as I did. I'm sorry for not being what you need, but know that if you ever doubt your decision, I'll still be here waiting. I guess it's going to take longer to get over you than I thought._

_Love, _

_Will_

Her heart broke just a little more reading it. She had to be such a selfish person. He hadn't done anything wrong. She let the note fall onto the table beside her and picked the rose up instead, smelling it deeply, longingly. Then, with regrets, she decided she had no choice but to open the beautifully wrapped box.

She lifted the lid with agonizing tentativeness. Beneath it lay a thin purple ribbon. Lily just wrinkled her brow at it at first, wondering what would possess him to give her something so unusual, but then a memory hit her, causing her to need to catch her breath.

They'd just been talking, but talking of course led to some really fantastic kissing. But during that kissing, the little purple ribbon she'd tied onto her ponytail that morning came undone, falling into the hands of Will that were wrapped in her hair. He grinned at her, pulling away and telling her he'd very much like to keep it as a reminder of her, and she told him to take it.

She scrunched the ribbon in her fist and jumped up from the couch, running up the stairs to hide the tears that began to fall from her eyes.

_'I guess it's going to take longer to get over you than I thought.'_

Xxx…xxX

Some ten or twenty minutes later, Lily really wasn't in the mood for counting, a knock had come at the front door, and she returned downstairs to answer it. She paused to wipe away any tears that might be left on her cheek and blinked her eyes a few times, hoping the puffy redness would fade enough by the time she would be seen.

She took a deep breath and pulled open the door, smiling convincingly. "Hi, Oliver!"

She watched him take one look at her and raise an eyebrow. "Lily," he stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him. "have you been crying?" He placed a gloved hand on the back of her neck and gently kissed her forehead, comfortingly, then pulled back again to look questioningly at her.

"Yeah," she mumbled, letting her head drop so she was watching her feet. She couldn't lie to him. "But don't worry about it, okay?" He nodded and followed her up the stairs.

Once they'd entered her bedroom, Lily shamelessly shut the door. No one was around, but it felt nice to have the privacy of her cozy blue and green room. "Take your coat off," she laughed, pointing at his still winter-clad self. "My room is warm."

"I noticed," he grinned, unzipping and pulling it off. She watched him look in either direction, a bit confused as to where to set it now.

"Just put it anywhere," she shrugged. "I don't care. You won't mess anything up," she told him, turning away and walking in her sock feet to the far corner.

He mumbled some agreement and followed her. As she fumbled with the CD player on the opposite side of her bed, she felt him standing very close behind her. "What are you doing?" he asked. Had his voice always been so deep?

She pressed a button dramatically and spun to meet him. Yes, he was standing very close to her. They were almost touching now. "I feel like dancing, Oliver," she grinned. "Tough times. I wanna let loose." Her words were honest, and she pushed him back away from her so she could center herself in the middle of her bedroom.

She knew he was laughing at her, but, feeling the way she did, she just really didn't care. Something about the moment told her it was time for some childish fun. Just for a few minutes, anyway. The music started on a strong beat, probably a little louder than it should have been, and the room was filled with the bright sounds of an old rock classic with an uptempo beat.

Oliver moved to sit on the corner of her bed. She realized she'd put him in a very uncomfortable situation, but didn't really seem to mind. She began swaying her hips with the music, jumping around excitedly and mouthing the words. "Come on!" she pointed at Oliver. "Dance with me!" He shook his head, holding his mouth shut, tight with a tiny grin.

She continued her dance alone, pumping her arms up in the air and spinning in circles when she felt like it. "I remember this song," Oliver said suddenly, and she twisted in her moving to face him. "We used to listen to it in fourth grade." She nodded excitedly at him, thrilled that he had caught on, remembering. He sat silently for another moment, waiting for that final moment of realization. "And we choreographed it!" He stood suddenly, and she giggled.

He held out his hand to her jittery form. "What?" she asked between mouthed verses.

He pulsed his hand. "Do you remember the moves?" She let her jaw drop, shaking her head. That was eight years ago. Of course she didn't remember the moves, but she took his hand anyway just for the fun of it. "Follow me," he said.

The chorus began again, and she felt herself being spun into him, on the beat, and back out again off it. Before she realized it, she was happily watching him, moving with him to the dance they'd made up so long ago, and slowly it came back to her. She felt herself box-stepping while receiving gleeful grins from Oliver's half of the room. It occurred to her then that the next move was a dangerous feat they'd created as a challenge to themselves, but that they'd never been able to perfect. If she could do it now, the song would end in time with them and their famous crowd-pleaser.

He looked at her, remembering too the finale, nodding enthusiastically. She giggled again, starting her run towards him with only seconds of the song left. He held out his arms to catch her, and holding her breath, she jumped. She wrapped her legs around his waist, facing him, and he caught her gracefully and rested his hands on her back, spinning them twice in rhythm while she held his shoulders. One the final beat, she dropped her hands and let her torso fall backwards so they were both smiling outwards to the should-be audience. After-song silence followed where Lily imagined a standing ovation for their talents.

The CD flipped to the next song, and Oliver, with his arms holding her dangerously low on her back, pulled her upwards to face level. She pulled him into a tight hug, laughing hysterically. "I can't believe we did that," she breathed.

She felt his body vibrate below her as he spoke. "I can't believe we remembered it. God Lils," he said, pulling his arms around her waist, holding her to him while she was still wrapped firmly around him, "We even pulled off the finale."

She pulled away to look at him. "First time for everything, but it helps that you're a good eight inches taller than me and a good deal stronger now," she grinned.

"Yeah," he sighed proudly, "I am pretty fantastic." Lily felt him walking beneath her. "But it might also have something to do with the fact that you're absolutely tiny," he proclaimed, throwing her playfully back on the bed. She felt her back hit the comforter softly, breaking her fall. She looked up to find Oliver climbing on top of her, holding himself above her valiantly while she squirmed.

"You're crazy, Oliver," she pushed him off herself and readjusted so she was lying on her side with him behind her. "Besides. I'm 5' 3". That's not tiny."

He huffed and she felt her hair tickle her neck from the air he blew. "Well, compared to my massive manly form, it is. Besides, you're so skinny." She felt hands on her waist, her ribcage, dancing in an attempt to tickle her. But she held strong.

"Am not!" she teased, wiggling lightly at his touch. But he scooted closer behind her so she was pressed into him. He was determined to prove a point.

"Look," he whispered into her ear that was suddenly not-so-uncomfortably close to him. "I can fit one arm completely around your waist." She felt him wrap his arms around her middle firmly and pull her in tight to him.

They lay like that for a number of seconds until the song that was playing switched again to something soft that she didn't recognize. Or maybe she was just distracted. Then, without warning, his arms were removed quickly from her now chilly body. "Oliver," she giggled, "what is it?" She closed her eyes and smiled at their previous position. She mentally willed his arms to return.

"Lily," his words were soft against her cheek, "Am I allowed to touch you?"

_'What a weird question,'_ she thought, scooting her hips backwards a bit to meet his in an attempt to tempt him into bringing himself closer to her again. "Of course you can _touch_ me. You're my best friend."

He exhaled slowly, loudly. "Lily, there is nothing friendly about the way your body looks to me right now." His words were blunt.

Her eyes shot open and her muscles clenched involuntarily. For a moment she wondered whether or not she should let him do it, whether or not she was old enough to have those kinds of thoughts and feelings, but threw the patience away. _'Hell, I'm eighteen. If a boy I can't stop thinking about wants to wrap himself around me, I'll be damned if something stops him.'_ She knew he couldn't see her when she did it, but she batted her eyelashes just for the effect. "How _does_ my body look to you right now?" she spoke seductively. If she was going to do this, she was going to have fun.

His breath was hot. "Tempting." The consonants were strong and lovely on his tongue. "Radiant." She felt his warm fingers glide along her arm, giving her goose bumps. Why had she never realized how hot his body was in comparison to hers? He bent in unbearably close, placing a strong hand on her leg and pulling it back to meet his. "And completely vulnerable."

Were she not lying on her bed, she probably would have swooned at the sex that dripped from his voice. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to just lie there and let his hands rest on her body. She turned in his arms so their fronts were pressed tightly together. "Hold me," she breathed, looking him pleadingly in the eyes.

The corner of his mouth turned up, and she could almost feel the hormones rushing through her veins. "I won't do it," he said, and pulled away.

She gaped. _'What? I just told an eighteen-year-old boy he had my permission to hold my body close to his, and he's rejecting it?'_ She watched him sit up and turn until his feet dangled off the edge of the bed. He faced away from her and just sat. "Oliver?" She questioned lightly.

"You can't do this to me, Lily," he spun around to look at her. His eyes were filled with nothing but intense pain and longing. "You can't just lead me on and make me want you more than anything. I'm not going to screw around if I can't have you for real, Lily." His words were harsh and deliberate.

"Oliver," she tried to cut in, "I want—"

"You don't know what you want." He stood from the bed and began pacing heavily over the rug. "I'll wait forever for you, Lils, but I'm not getting in Will's way. It's just a path I don't want to go down."

"But," she began, sitting up on the bed and crossing her legs. She felt positively miniscule. "Oliver," she breathed. "I broke up with Will."

She saw his shoulders relax and his head drop, but when he turned around to face her, it wasn't relief in his expression, but defeat. "Now Will Giordano isn't even good enough for you?"

What? Why didn't he understand? "No, Oliver. It's nothing like that," she stood to meet him.

"It isn't?" he scoffed. "So you broke up with him because he's moving?"

"No," she admitted, trying to speak, but he beat her to it.

"So you're going to be too busy with photography?" He raised an eyebrow, willing her to say yes.

"It's not like that, Oliver!" She hadn't meant to shout, but why wouldn't he listen to her?

"So what is it, then?" He raised his voice and stood tall above her. It would have been intimidating if she weren't so preoccupied with getting him to understand. "The boy is just about perfect, Lily. I thought I'd never be able to be as good for you as him, but what the hell _is_ good enough for you? I'm willing to try everything here." He looked so overcome. All she wanted was to let him know the real reason, to relieve his worry.

"Oliver," she pleaded, but he cut her off again.

"You know what, never mind. I don't want to know why. It's just going to depress me more," he said, turning and trudging from her bedroom, slamming the door as he went.

Lily sat down on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. She'd cried all too much recently, but she just couldn't seem to help it anymore. When she heard the distinct sound of his car pulling out of her driveway and speeding down the street, she whispered to herself, "I left him for you, Oliver. Why don't you understand?"

**A/N: That was sure eventful. Oliver's a nutcase. But don't worry, he'll come around eventually. I think I'm going to need at least three more chapters, maybe four. I have a few things to sort through, but then we'll be at the end. Are you sad? Relieved? Or just anxious for the fluffy Loliver stuff? In the mean time, stop reading this note and review. The more you type, the less time you'll have to wait afterwards for Chapter Nine. Haha, love to my readers! XxRunThroughIt**


	9. Should Have Been

**A/N: Just a look into Lily's life post Oliver. Chapter Ten will be up soon.**

**Disclaimer: If you're still wondering, it's Milo Ohio I own, not Hannah Montana. (Lame name, I know. Sorry.)**

**Chapter 9: Should Have Been**

Lily had no desire to keep up her social life. After all, the person she wanted to talk to the most was the one who she couldn't face. How had life backfired on her like this?

School was a bore. She showed up every day ten or fifteen minutes early, not having anything better to do with her time, and spent at least half an hour after school each day working on her portfolio. She watched as her grades on tests on assignments improved; it was a lot easier to pay attention to homework when she didn't have those bothersome _people_ to distract her.

She saw Will from time to time, and at each encounter she smiled brightly at him, ashamed that she'd given him up for a boy who wouldn't even look at her. She didn't want him to know that life after him, for her, had been pretty damn lousy.

She and Maya had taken to eating lunch at one end of the table, Mike and Oliver at the other. Harvey suspiciously floated between both, but no one ever let him in on what had happened. No one ever mentioned it.

Lily, for one, didn't even know how she felt about it. She wished he would understand, but she was so bitter that he'd ruined it all for her that she really didn't feel like she could approach him, let alone make it through a whole conversation. She wanted more than anything for him to come and apologize for his actions, but he probably didn't even know he'd done anything wrong. She wished he did.

There was one night in mid-November, a Saturday when she should have been curled up in a blanket on his couch, happily watching some old classic on his television. He should have been beside her, close enough so that she could use him as a pillow when she got to too tired to watch the movie. She should have woken up to the gentle touch of his fingertips running through her hair, or over her arm, or a warm palm rubbing her back. She should have been waiting just a little longer before sitting up just to enjoy the sensation of his body touching hers, feeling so protected by him. But instead she was home. And so was he. She could tell by looking down the street at his house, where his bedroom light was on like it was so often those days.

She'd picked up the phone to call him that night. She'd dialed all the digits and pressed the "SEND" button anxiously. She waited through every ring, willing him to pick up the call, willing him not to. He didn't. Whether it was because he had caller ID and hadn't wished to talk to her or because he was down eating dinner she didn't know, but the voicemail hit. She just sat there for a moment, not ready to talk yet. Then she exhaled deeply in defeat. "Damn it, Oliver," she choked into the receiver, and hung up. She flung the phone onto her bed and curled into a little ball, little short breaths strangling her words and wet tears staining her cheeks. He called her back once, a week or something later, but she'd been at dinner, and didn't pick up. When "1 Missed Call" flashed in blue across the screen afterwards, she decided to ignore it. She wasn't in the mood.

Not long after that, on another Saturday night she shouldn't have been at home, her mom knocked slowly on the door.

"What is it?" she called in monotone, and the door swung open.

"Lily honey," she spoke sadly, "Oliver's Grandpa died today. The wake is on Monday, and we're invited." She waited a moment, but Lily just stared back at her, not sure what to think of this change in situation. The door was shut soon after, leaving her alone, again.

In the quiet of her bedroom she whispered, "Damn it, Oliver," and went to bed.

**A/N: Well now, Lily just might have to talk to Oliver again if she's going to his Grandfather's wake. I'm quite excited for Chapter Ten, though. I'll give you a hint. It involves a very important conversation that gives us a new perspective and a very sneaky teenager. I understand that this chapter is hardly one for reviews, so you're off the hook until next time. Don't forget to check out my other stories. =) Happy almost back-to-school.**


	10. Sweet Words

**A/N: It's funny that I was seriously worried about making this chapter long enough, and then it turned out to be one of the longest that I've written. Anyway, here we have Chapter Ten. I'm quite pleased with it, and I swear it's guaranteed to make you "aww" at the loliverness. I apologize ahead of time for the swearing. Don't put two teenage boys on the same wire. They might really get into it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I put out three chapters in one day (Yes, you caught me. One was a fake chapter). Do you really think someone who's working with teen stars has that kind of time? No. I don't really, either, but I've skillfully put off my schoolwork for you people. =D**

**Chapter 10: Sweet Words**

"Lily," Mike had told her just the day before, "you've got to call Oliver. I know you're going to the wake, but really, you've gotta call him. It's just polite."

She had nodded and told him she knew it, but she was "just so nervous to have to talk to him again", and she didn't know "how to not make it awkward."

So Mike told her he'd help. They'd three-way. He'd call them both today at seven, and they could all talk together. "That way," he'd reassured her, "if the conversation gets awkward, I can always jump in and cover for you two."

She'd thought it was sweet at the time, but now it just made her sick. It had been almost a month since she'd last spoken to Oliver, and even though she wasn't mad at him, and she was pretty sure he wasn't mad at her either, she just didn't know what she was responsible for saying.

Now she was busily working down in the kitchen, happily moving extra slowly through the dishes she was washing. Maybe that way the water would be running and she wouldn't hear her phone ring all the way up in her bedroom. It wasn't her most clever plan, she knew, but at the moment, the pan that had held that night's chicken was just way more entertaining and within her comfort zone than a three-way with Mike and Oliver.

She distinctly heard the chiming of the grandfather clock in her living room when seven o'clock rolled around. She'd moved on to running the soapy sponge diligently over the bowl from the green beans. She'd almost finished when the heard her phone start ringing.

'_Adonde tu vas, te sigo' _it sang her favorite Spanish song grandly through her hallways. Oliver'd picked it for her. He'd taken four years of Spanish and swore by it, but she had no idea what the words meant. French tended not to help with that. Instead of running for it, though, she just stared motionlessly at the green bean bowl, not ready to leave it yet.

'_Solo por ti, yo vivo,'_ it continued, and she considered very seriously dropping the bowl just to hear Oliver's voice on the other end. It had been so long.

'_Eres mi obsession,'_ it began again, and she lost it. She knew what _that_ phrase meant, at least. The guilt overcame her, and she dashed up the stairs to grab the call.

'_Eres mi obsessio-on. Es por amor que estoy perdido en'_ She thrust her hand out to retrieve her singing mobile, flipping it open just before the little word _'ti'_ that she knew came next in the lyrics. She was breathing hard, so she moved the phone away from her mouth to make sure Oliver and Mike wouldn't hear her pants. Well, for Oliver mostly. She'd just caught her breath enough to say hello when a voice beat her to it.

"I guess she's not going to pick up." It was Mike. She froze at the unusual nature of the potential conversation about to start.

"Oh well," It was Oliver's voice. _Oliver's voice_ was coming through her cell phone. That stopped her thought process before the hello could finally make itself known to the y-chromosomed pair. "I'm not up to talking to her right now, anyway." Lily tried to figure out just what emotion was resting in his voice as he said this, but she couldn't manage it. So she just stayed silent, deciding to take a moment and listen, forfeiting all her rights to speaking.

"I understand." It was Mike again. "Well, we were just calling to wish you our condolences on your grandfather. It's a hard time, I know." His words were sweet.

"Thanks Mike," Oliver replied shortly, almost uncomfortably.

"Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here to lis—"

"I don't think I'm going to want to talk about it." Lily was surprised at his choice of tone. Oliver had loved his grandpa. He was always telling her stories about him. How could this not be hurting him? "Sorry, Mike. I'm just not really up for it."

"S'okay," Mike replied forgivingly. "Do you want to talk about something else? You know, maybe get your mind off it for a while?"

Lily heard the crackly loud over-the-phone breath that Oliver let out in response to this. "Yeah, actually." She could tell he was leaning back and running a hand through his hair over at his house. She just could. It warmed her inside a little to know she knew this. "That would be awesome, Mike."

"So how's Lily?" Thanks, Mike.

"God, Mike. Do you have to bring her up? We're trying to make me feel good here." There was nothing in the word "her" that bothered Lily, but she didn't like hearing it in his sentence. It made her feel like an object. It was unfair and insane to say, but she wished he'd just say her name instead.

"Well maybe this will help. You know you have to talk about it sometime. Why not now?"

Oliver sighed. "All right," he said giving up. "I just," he started, and Lily leaned closer despite the fact that it wasn't going to help her hear any better over the phone. "I just can't believe it, Mike. She broke up with Will." He said it again, enunciating so as not to give the wrong meaning to a single word. "She broke up with Will. Why the hell would she do that?"

"Must not have been what she was looking for." Lily realized the hint Mike was dropping, but Oliver didn't seem to catch on.

"Apparently. But come on, Will Giordano? I hate to admit it, but the guy is really perfect for her. He's got everything going for him. He's smart and funny and good-natured._ I_ even love hanging out with him. He's all tall and blond and good-looking. I should be thrilled that my best friend was dating a guy like that." He blew a little air from the corner of his mouth. "But I spent all my time wishing I was as good as him, trying to be like that for Lily, and she goes and breaks up with him. Mike, if Will Giordano isn't good enough for Lily, who the hell is?"

"Maybe he's just not what she's looking for," Mike tried to reassure him, restating his previous words to clue him in. Oliver was oblivious, as usual.

"Well, I mean, I guess no guy is ever going to be good enough for Lily," he laughed a little. _'What the hell does he mean?'_ Lily thought. "I mean, she's just too good for everyone. Really. No one deserves her."

There was a long silence, and Lily leaned back into the pile of pillows at the head of her bed.

"Oliver," Mike began, "Do you know why she broke up with Will?"

"Well," he admitted, "I guess not. But isn't it obvious."

"Yeah," Mike laughed, "to everyone but you."

"Huh?"

"God Oliver, you're so dense." Lily blushed, knowing what Mike was going to say. She was so happy someone understood (well, even if it was after half an hour on the phone). "Lily broke up with Will because she thought that's what you wanted her to do."

"What?" There was obvious worry in his frantic voice. "I don't want her to give up Will just to make me happy."

"That's not what I mean, Oliver," Mike jumped in before Oliver could start again on one of his tirades. "Lily broke up with him because she was in love with you. As in, she didn't think it was _fair_ to stay with him if the whole time she was going to be thinking about you."

"Wh-what?" Oliver sounded stunned, then huffed loudly. "How do you know that?" he asked suspiciously.

"She told me."

"When?" And so the interrogation continued.

"She called me one night after Senior Retreat and told me what happened. She said she wanted you both, but she was only going to keep it up with Will because she thought it would be fair to him. She'd let him date her for three weeks. How could she just cast him aside? But she wanted to give him up for you because she was in _love_ with you. I told her she had to make a choice before anyone got hurt, and she said she'd have to pick you because she just couldn't stop loving you."

Lily grinned. Her tale was awfully romanticized in Mike's version. The boy always knew exactly what to say, which was probably why he was such a stud with the girls, but whatever got the point across best to Oliver.

"Are, are you serious?" He asked, astonished.

"Absolutely. I don't lie about Lily." _'I should eavesdrop more often if I get all these compliments,'_ she thought, beaming.

"Damn it." No mistaking what he said there.

"What?"

"Well I can't possibly call her now. I made a complete fool of myself," he almost whined into the phone with agony. "She has every right to be furious with me after the way I shut her out this past month and a half. Is it really halfway through December already?"

"Nearly."

"Damn it."

"But Oliver," Mike began again. "I think it's still your job to talk first. I mean, if you were her, the absolute last thing you'd want to do is call you. It's too awkward for her; she wouldn't have anything to say." He imitated a girly voice and said "'Hi Oliver. You really pissed me off by not listening to me at all last month.' Do you see how this isn't getting anywhere? It's really not her responsibility."

"I hate it when you're right," Oliver groaned, and she heard his head hit his desk. That's where he was sitting, anyway. He always talked on the phone while sitting backwards on his chair, legs spread apart, leaning on his desk. That or in his pajamas and under his covers. That's how he talked to her, and that's how she talked to him. There was something intimate about being in bed when you were talking to someone. "You know," he said, "she called me once."

"What? While you two weren't talking?"

"Yeah. It was maybe a month ago. I was down eating dinner, but when I got back upstairs there was a voicemail on my phone. I checked it, and it was silent for a long time. I would have hung up, usually, thinking somebody just didn't put the phone down fast enough after calling me, but I just knew it was going to be her. Then all she said was 'Damnit, Oliver," and hung up. It sounded like she was going to cry."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Mike pleaded.

"I dunno," Oliver mumbled. "It just didn't seem that necessary. Honestly, I was just confused by it. I didn't know what the hell she intended in it. It makes sense though, now. I mean, she tried to do something right for me, and I just totally fucked it up." Lily closed her eyes and gaped. His words were not at all eloquent, but he really understood her.

"Something you do a lot, huh?" Mike teased.

"Shut up," Oliver told him, but he was smiling, she knew. "But God, her voice just broke me down inside. It just reminded me that I was never going to be what she wanted, but I knew I had to at least call her back. It must have taken me a week to build up the courage, but when I finally called, she didn't answer, and I haven't talked to her since. Maybe she's still mad at me. That's probably why she didn't pick up tonight."

"I don't know, Oliver. I really don't think she's that mad."

"What, have you been talking to her behind my back again?" Oliver chided.

"Nope. Just a feeling," Mike told him plainly, pleasing Lily very much.

"Maybe not." He paused. He really paused. It was a dramatic "dare I say it" moment, but then he did. "I was never angry at her," he admitted, and Lily smiled from her bed. "I was just so bothered that night about the fact that I was never going to be what she wanted that I got upset with myself. I cut her off and shouted. I must seem like a real bastard to her. I was just, just so defeated feeling. I guess I just wanted her to know how much she hurt me, but she hadn't tried." He stopped again and exhaled loudly. "God, I'm such an asshole."

Lily had almost forgotten Mike was there after listening to Oliver's sweet words. She wanted to run to his house right then, but thought better of it. "What the hell did you think she meant when she was all over you on her bed, for Pete's sake, Oliver? Damn, you're pessimistic if you didn't catch on to that."

"I, I dunno Mike. I hadn't really thought about it that much," he laughed. "I was so, so _thrilled_ that she was, you know, letting me touch her and hold her and be with her at first that it was just all I could think about. Nothing about her intentions, just that I got to feel her body against mine."

"Pervert." Mike threw that one in just for kicks, and it made Lily laugh silently into the receiver.

She felt Oliver smile in response. "Says you."

"Touché."

"So we were just lying there, having a pretty intense conversation, and I remember Will. I didn't know she'd broken up with him then, so I figured she was just spreading herself too thin. You know, telling herself she'd let me fool around with her to make me happy. I guess I thought she was doing me a favor or something, but I didn't want her to have to. I told her I wouldn't do it because I thought I was removing myself from the equation, making her choice easy and obvious. Shit, Mike. I thought I was protecting her."

"Why do we always think we've got it right?"

"We're just a couple of dumbasses," Oliver laughed, and Mike agreed.

"Did you tell Lily how much you love her, Oliver?" Mike spoke quietly after a few moments of comfortable silence.

"You make me look like such a woos, Mike," Oliver sighed, but Lily was holding out for what he was going to say. "I mean, I told her after the whole bridge incident that I was pretty unfixably in love with her, and then that night I made it pretty clear that I wanted her body, too. So I was pretty blunt in giving her the full range of my emotions, but really, Mike, I don't think I'll ever be able to express to her the way I feel about her," he breathed, and Lily melted into a tiny Lily puddle on her bed. When did Oliver Oken learn to be so darned romantic?

"Oliver," Mike started cautiously, then waited, "You're crazy for her, I hope you know. No guy admits this crap. You're either insane or she owns you, man."

"You have no idea," he laughed a little, reluctantly. "There are so many things I love about her. Like, like that night. She turns on her radio and just starts dancing. Just wild jumpy ridiculous dancing, and I just sat on her bed and watched her for a little while before she convinced me to jump in. I mean, first of all, she convinced me to _dance_ with her, and I don't dance. But really, she was just so damned cute. She was so happy and excited about it that I just couldn't turn her down. All I wanted to do was make her happy. I wanted it to be my fault that she wanted to dance around her bedroom like a twelve-year-old."

Lily scowled, now out of her Lily puddle, at the twelve-year-old part, even though it was true.

"Owned," Mike remarked smartly.

"But then I went and got all teenage boy on her. I started looking at her body and thinking about it, then it didn't help that I pretty much had free range of it once we were lying down. She had her butt all tucked against me, and I thought I was going to go crazy."

"Woo," Mike sighed, "I sure know that feeling."

"I felt so guilty though. She should be more to me than just a piece of ass, and she _is_, but when she's all vulnerable in my arms, or God, when she was on top of me, Mike, the girls was bent over me _straddling_ me, I just can't control myself, and my mind wanders to some really unwholesome places."

"Horndog," Mike was laughing. "I'm glad we're talking about something I can relate to, now."

"God, you freak." Oliver was blunt, but continued anxiously. "I didn't tell you this, but that night on the bridge," he started.

"Mmhm," Mike interjected.

"Well, it got pretty steamy. I mean, Mike," he lowered his voice, "she undid my belt."

"What!?" Mike shouted. Lily pulled the phone away from her ear in pain. She had really wanted to forget she'd done that. "She, she…you know?"

"No, I made her stop," Oliver sounded almost in pain.

"Fool."

"Oh shut up, Mike. I couldn't possibly let her do that," he lectured. "First of all, she was dating Will at the time, and I couldn't let her give all that up yet. I mean, I don't _think_ she'd done any of it with him, and I wasn't going to be the one to steal any of her innocent parts from her. I didn't want her to look back on her first anything with that kind of guilt."

"You know what? You're a girl, Oliver," Mike sighed good-naturedly.

"But shit, that was hard. I mean, not only did I realize that it was going to kill her on the inside, I mean, I was rejecting her after all, but my body just wanted it so badly. I wanted her to do it, and I'll never forgive myself for that."

"I have to say," Mike jumped in. "That's quite melodramatic." Lily pulled the phone away from her ear and giggled at the jokes Mike made on the sidelines. Oliver barely noticed.

"But I might be able to let it go if I just wanted her body and thought she was cute, but the gods aren't gunna let me have it that easy. No, I also have to care deeply, passionately, about her. I mean, every time something happens to me, all I want to do is call her up and tell her. And I'm always worried about whether or not she's going to get hurt doing whatever she'd doing. Mike, for God's sake, I go to bed thinking about her and wake up the same way. I don't want to leave her when we're talking, and everything I see reminds me of something she does," he chattered, but Mike cut him off.

"Okay, now you're just rambling. I don't know how you keep up with yourself, boy. But Oliver, what the hell are you gunna do about all this?"

"I, I don't know," he admitted. "I wish I could just see her in the hallways and run up and kiss her all over."

"You're definitely a horndog."

"Jerk. You know that's not what I meant. Besides, I can't do that. I don't know how she feels about me right now." The words were wistful and soft. "But I don't know how much longer I can put up with this. I want to fix things with her so badly that I'm afraid to do anything because I don't want to mess it up more." Lily was once more a puddle on her quilt.

"I don't really have much experience here," Mike said honestly, "But I think you'd better just start talking to her. You know, whenever you can. It doesn't have to be all deep and prepared ahead of time. It'll probably all just get straightened out after a little while. But you can't just ignore her."

"I know."

"Besides," Mike added slyly, "Once you've made up, the two of you can go at it like dogs. You clearly want that."

"Oh shove it, Mike," Oliver taunted. "I would never treat Lily like a dog," he cooed sentimentally.

Mike just snorted. "Oliver, you are truly a woman at heart."

"That's okay," and Lily felt him grin, "because I always thought lesbians were kind of hot. Me and Lily all—"

"Stop right there!" Mike commanded. "I don't want to hear anymore! You've convinced me to hang up."

"Good," Oliver laughed. "I was getting sick of being all mushy with you, anyway."

"Right, well," Mike paused, reluctant to continue, "I'll see you at the wake then?" It had to be said.

Oliver inhaled sharply, regretfully. "I guess I'll see you there."

"Too bad Lily didn't pick up to talk."

"I'm sure she had her reasons. Besides, it was nice to let you know all this."

"Mmhm. Well I'll talk to you Monday," Mike said, and the line went dead on his side.

Lily was about to hang up her cell phone, but a low breathy whisper caught at her heartstrings, making her stay on the line a bit longer. "Lily, why don't you understand?"

Then he hung up.

**A/N: Awww, right? They even used the same line on each other. Okay, we're (probably) all girls here, so don't you wish that guys really talked like that? I mean, it's pretty clear that they're not so sentimental, but I tried, so there you are. By the way, if anyone can identify that song that was Lily's ringtone without looking it up, you're officially my best friend. If you can understand the words, cute, right? Love love love love love him. Anyway, it's 1:30 in the morning right now, which is why I'm all chatty, so forgive me. But I do love reviews, and I'm asking for them shamelessly. Goodnight, everyone!**


	11. Memorizing You

**A/N: And so Chapter Eleven came to be, at the last minute before the end of winter break. Oh long nights and groggy slow mornings, how I will miss you. Anyway, this is going to be the last chapter of any real substance, so I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: If you're reading the eleventh chapter of a fanfic – Actually, if you're on Fanfiction at all, you should really know by now that this writer has zero affiliation with anything Hannah Montana.**

**Chapter 11: Memorizing You**

Lily didn't want to be seen. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She didn't want to be seen by anyone who wasn't Oliver Oken. She stood in line with her mother patiently, uncomfortably really, to pay her respects to the body, but she couldn't deny she had no real want to be there. Of course she wanted to help out Oliver, but it was just destined to be a bad situation.

She wasn't going to cry. It would be an insult to his family since she'd only ever met Grandpa Oken once or twice when he'd come into town for the holidays. Besides, she wasn't sure she could muster it. Everyone around her seemed to be able to, which just made it all the more awkward. On her left she saw a group of Oliver's twenty-something cousins all huddled around a display board covered in old pictures. On her right were their mothers, beyond their primes and wearing too much makeup, whining through their tear-filled voices.

The number of black-clad friends and relatives before her dwindled as the minutes passed until suddenly she was standing directly before the casket. A wrinkled face covered in peach powder and rosy blush greeted her, and she felt a bit sick to her stomach. It wasn't the corpse before her that bothered her, just that she had nothing really to say about it, or to it, or uhm, she wasn't really sure. She didn't belong in this line. She knelt despite herself and prayed, silently, quickly, for the family. She stood before her mother did from the kneeler and glanced back at the line to occupy herself. How many of these men and women were in exactly her position?

She looked down to her mother's hunched form now slowly rising. Her mother's eyes gave her a sad, compassionate look. Lily accepted it and turned to continue down the line, where the closest family was standing, namely the children, almost all of whom (and there were quite a few) were men. Oliver did say he had a lot of uncles. She looked up and smiled at them, shaking all of their hands individually. They were all quite composed. An act, she knew.

She reached the end of the men and saw Oliver and his mother sitting in the far corner, mumbling a word or two back and forth. Lily turned back for permission from her mother, who nodded patiently to her, then leaned down to whisper, "I'll go try to comfort the wives," she cracked a smile.

Lily's steps to the corner were tentative, nervous. How did you greet your best friend that you hadn't talked to in a month and a half when his grandfather died? She'd never been in a remotely similar situation before, and decided to wing it.

"Hello Mrs. Oken. Hi Oliver," she smiled apologetically at them, and Mrs. Oken led Oliver in standing. She took Lily into a firm hug, catching her off guard.

"Lily, sweetie, It's so good to see you," she pulled away and grinned broadly at her. "It means so much to us that you could come. You look lovely." Usually Lily loved being adored by the parents, she was a master of making it happen, but there was just no way to make this situation better. When Mrs. Oken released her, she turned to Oliver, who watched her silently for a moment, intensely.

It occurred to her that he didn't know she knew. He still thought she was upset with him. Oh, did they have some talking to do.

Thankfully, Oliver's head twitched subtly to the side, indicating an escape, so she followed.

He lead her out of the room with the red flor de li carpet and down the hallway of green country-style wallpaper, then up the stairs. Lily, too afraid to look at Oliver, observed the house as they walked. It was all too pleasant. There were flowers on all the side tables and little boxes of tissues atop each of those. Furniture was sparse and gave the appearance that some old director would come out and give you dirty looks if you sat on it, so she didn't.

At the end of the upstairs hallway, there was a door in the same dark-washed wood that adorned the entirety of the funeral home. Oliver didn't look like he knew what was inside, pushing the door open slowly and peering just slightly around the corner. They both had the same thought, _'No dead bodies. Good,'_ before he motioned her inside.

As soon as the door was shut, he led her to the room's center, just staring down at her. No knowing what was expected of her, she stared back up at him. He looked taller, more handsome in the black and white suit he wore. She was afraid she'd choke on any words that came out of her mouth. He must have known, because it was he who eventually broke the silence.

"Lily, I'm so sorry," his words were soft and crackly, like he hadn't spoken in days. Or maybe he was just upset. "I, I didn't realize. I didn't know that it was because, because—"

She cut off his stuttering. "Shh," she whispered, and led him over the wall, where they both sat down, leaning back against it. "Oliver, I heard your phone call with Mike. I understand." She refused to look at him. What if he was angry at her for it?

"You, Oh God," he breathed, turning bright red and looking away. "I've gotta say," he stammered, regaining his voice slowly, "I'm relieved that I don't have to explain it all to you, but I'm so, so _mortified_ that you heard me say all those…_things_." There was a lightness in his voice Lily hadn't heard in ages, and she thanked him for making this easy for her.

"It was all so sweet, Oliver," she tilted her face upwards to meet his glance.

"It was all true," he stated simply, and his eyes were, just for a moment, filled with a lustful longing, but he turned away quickly to mask it.

They pair stared intently forward, but Lily hadn't come all the way up here just to talk about feelings. Oliver needed her, so she bravely reached over and grasped his hand strongly in hers. It was the first time she'd touched him since that night in her bedroom, and she felt her nerves tingle and her arm go almost numb at his contact. He shifted so his hand encased hers. She glowed.

"Oliver," she whispered after they'd realized the tick-tocking of a clock high on the wall. She glanced up at it. He glanced up at her. "I'm sorry about your Grandpa."

She decided it was safe to turn back to face him, but he thought otherwise and copied her to face the clock. His face went white, then blotchy red covered up the pale spots. _'Oh God,' _Lily was suddenly saying to herself. _'I made him cry.'_ She watched as he turned to the side and put the hand that had covered hers over his closest eye.

"Oliver!" she almost shouted, "I'm so sorry. Never mind. Let's not talk about it!" Her words were frantic and worried, but she slowed compassionately as he hunched farther into his contorted figure. "I, I won't look," she smiled, and faced away from him.

There was a laugh hidden somewhere in the sobs he wouldn't let her hear. She could tell the broken breath wasn't just that. "It's okay," he spoke into his hand, but she heard it. "Don't apologize," she said, beginning to sit up and face her. "Lily, you can talk about it. And uhm, please look at me," he added, and she obeyed, turning back around. His eyes were watery, but there was something about broken Oliver that was beautiful, so she gave a helpless grin.

"Why wouldn't you talk about it with Mike?" she asked after letting him compose himself a bit. She wondered fleetingly why that had chosen to sit so awkwardly on the floor.

"Well," he started, sniffing a little, "First of all, it just wasn't good timing. I didn't want to get all mopey and dumb like now." He drew a thumb under his eyes, distinctly wiping any tears.

"You don't look all mopey and dumb," she sympathized. "I haven't seen you cry in years, Oliver, but this is – I don't know. It's kind of sweet."

She watched a little peach color flush his cheeks. "Well, really, I didn't want to talk about it with him because he wouldn't understand."

She gave him a questioning glance.

"He's just a guy. He can't help it, but he can't be very sympathetic to me."

"Are you saying you're not a guy," she teased. She almost dodged the hand that flipped from his side to slap her leg, but wasn't fast enough. She was glad though, because after it touched her once, it wouldn't leave, and rubbed the spot comfortingly instead, healing any pain me might have caused.

"Besides," he started again, looking at her directly this time, "I wanted to talk about it first with you."

Her heart fluttered a bit. She knew she liked this Oliver kid. "So talk," she said.

They sat watching one another for a few moments. Lily took the initiative and placed a hand over Oliver's to stop its movement on her leg and ensure that it wouldn't leave. She'd had all too much of Oliver's warmth running away from her lately. He leaned in slowly and placed the lightest peck on her lips. She wasn't even sure his lips ever touched hers, but she felt the tingle of it either way. He drew back and glanced down at her, almost happily. Maybe it wasn't happy, but it was serene. He knew exactly how to comfort all of her worries.

"He was the one who taught me how to play chess, my grandpa, that is." He looked blankly out to the wall, remembering, the kiss already forgotten in his distracted state. "We played it every Tuesday night when I was younger because my family went over there once a week for dinner. He'd say 'Do you want some dessert, Oliver man?', and I'd laugh and tell him not to call me that, then say one way or another that I did want dessert, and ask him what it was. Every time he'd tell me 'You can't know until you play me in a good game of chess.'" He smiled to himself vaguely, and Lily closed her eyes in an attempt to see little Oliver sitting with his Grandfather at the chess table. Warmth filled her. "Then we'd play, and he'd tell me what dessert was. If I won the game, I got to have some."

"Your grandpa wouldn't give you dessert if you didn't win the game? Tough life, Oken," she giggled.

"No," he looked back at her. "He'd just tell me he was going to make some for himself, since he won, then make two bowls." He showed her a pathetic face, like he knew it was all over but would never let go of those childish moments. Lily had felt the same way when her Great Uncle Henry passed in eighth grade.

"Aw Oliver," Lily complained gently, "I wish you'd told me that before. You used to ask me all the time if I wanted to play chess, and I would never do it."

"You didn't know how to play," he excused her.

"I never let you teach me," she said apologetically. "Every time you'd say 'How about I show you how to play a good game of chess?'"

"And every time," he jumped in nostalgically, "you would say 'I'm not in the mood.' And that was that."

She watched the little spots on the corners of his mouth where the dimples weren't move up and down as he smiled, then began another story. "My Grandpa was funny; he was so set on tradition." He was faced forward again, but glanced out of the corners of his eyes to make sure Lily was still listening. When he was content that she was, he continued. "We always had this one salad with our Christmas dinner. It had these dried cherries and sugar-covered walnuts on it and some other stuff I don't remember. But he knew exactly what it was, and this one year my Aunt Sue tried to switch it up somehow, and he almost had a panic attack," he shook his head to no on in particular. "He made her go out to the store, _on Christmas day_, to get the right stuff. I can't even remember breakfast some days, but he, in his old age, could list every ingredient in the Christmas salad."

"That must be where you got it," she elbowed him jokingly.

"Got what?" he teased back.

"Your insane inability to notice detail. He forced it out of you," she laughed. "You defiant bastard."

"Yeah, you know me," he let on. "There's just a lot of little stuff I'm going to miss doing. You know, the fishing and the birdhouses in the backyard in summertime and the life lessons when you screw something up," he mumbled.

"We could do that stuff," she paused in realization, "if you wanted."

"Lils," he sung, letting his smile droop sadly, and she knew in an instant what he would say, "it's not that I don't love doing stuff with you, but I kind of don't want to change those memories, you know? I don't want to try to remake them because I love them that way."

"Okay," she sighed, suddenly fascinated by the dirt her mother had made her clean from her fingernails that morning. She did it anyway, needing to look occupied.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.

"You didn't," she assured him, nodding.

"Good."

They shifted simultaneously to face one another, Lily, without a word, suggesting they sit cross-legged like when they were little, and Oliver following her command.

"What are you doing?" she giggled after a few moments of Oliver's wandering eyes.

"Just looking at you," he said, and she blushed furiously. "No, no. Not like that," he reassured her. "I just don't ever want to forget what you look like, all innocent and happy. I'm memorizing you, okay?" His words were so simple, honest, that she just couldn't help but resist them.

"I like that," she told him. "I think I'll do the same," she flirted and stared back at him, loving the chance just to examine his form.

"Thanks for coming up here with me. Actually, thanks for showing up here at all," he interrupted her viewing, drawing her gaze back up to his beautiful lips that moved with his words. "It's kind of a nasty situation anyway, real awkward and all, and then we hadn't talked in so long. If I were you, I don't think I'd be worth coming to see in a state like this. I didn't think you were going to come."

"I had to, Oliver. You needed someone to talk to, to let comfort you," she reassured him. "Besides, I don't think I could have taken being away from you very much longer," she admitted slowly, averting her eyes.

He leaned in suddenly so his face was level with hers and not very far away, forcing her to turn back to him curiously. He looked her in the eyes and spoke distinctly, "I love you, Lily Truscott." _'I love the spontaneous boy,'_ she found herself thinking.

Her cheeks flushed wildly and she felt the tight stretch of skin when her grin couldn't get any bigger, and she leaned in just a little closer to him so their noses touched. "I love you too, Oliver," she breathed sheepishly and pulled away, "But we really shouldn't be talking about this now." She watched as his expression dropped. "Later," she promised, and he nodded.

Lily saw him turn his head once over his shoulder, then look back at her. He held out an inviting hand, which she took happily, and he pulled her up off the floor with him, leading her to the little blue satin loveseat in the corner. _'More comfortable,'_ he thought, and she heard it.

He sat her down just beside him, both of them angled inward so their knees all but brushed. He looked up at the clock, then shifted his gaze to the satin seat cover, stroking his hand back and forth against it, preoccupied. She couldn't tell for certain, but he tilted his head and crinkled his nose like the tears might have come again, so she decided to help.

"Oliver," she whispered, and he nodded, but wouldn't look up. "Do you want me to hold you?" Her words would have seemed silly were they not in the right situation, but she didn't feel at all bad about saying it, and she knew he understood.

His face tilted upwards, revealing again-glossy eyes, and shook his head. "No," he smiled, "But do you think I could," he paused, "well, would you come hear anyway?" His words were nervous, unsure, so she did.

He patted his lap lightly, and she threw him a questioning glance. "Sit," he mouthed, and she obliged. Not quite sure just what exactly he wanted her to do, she tried to maneuver her body so it wouldn't be too uncomfortable for him. She sat lightly on his lap, hoping she wasn't too heavy, so that her hips were sideways on his and her legs fell somewhere from there. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders so her head and chin rested on the far one. She thought maybe it looked awkward, but it was like she was giving him a big hug, and he didn't move her, so she assumed it must be all right.

After a few moments, she felt his hands rest themselves on her back, rubbing lightly up and down. She enjoyed the electric feeling.

_Tick_

_Tock_

_Tick_

_Tock_

The clock chimed lightly, counting the seconds they'd been there. Oliver and Lily did no such thing.

"Oliver," she whispered to him after she'd sat so long she was sure his legs must have fallen asleep.

"What?" he breathed into her ear.

"Will you teach me how to play a good game of chess? It might get your mind of things," she asked him sweetly.

He pulled her away, moving his hands to grasp either side of her face gently. He leaned in and kissed her once. "Lily," he smiled, "I'm not in the mood." She giggled, agreeing, so he pulled her back to him, holding her tighter instead.

**A/N: Well, how about those girlish giggles? What did you think? Was it a little choppy sounding? I think so. My words were not working tonight, haha. Like I said before, this was really the last chapter of any substance, so if you're not one for plotless romance, feel free to call this the end of "By Any Other Name", and stop checking back. If you're into the romance, stay tuned. Oh, and speaking of the title, I came to a realization today when thinking about how to incorporate that line into the last chapter. I was gunna be all "Let's replace the word Rose with Lily, because Rose isn't Lily's name, and they're both flowers. Cute." Then something hit me. Her middle name is Rose. Darn it, what was I thinking? Haha. You'll have to see how I work my way out of that conundrum, but not before you review! Haha! Happy end of freedom, readers. School is in the morning.**


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